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PRINCETON,     N.    J. 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 


PUBLIC  LECTURES 

DELIVERED    IN    THE    CHAPEL 

OF  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TIE  STATE  OF  MISSOURI, 
COLUMBIA,  MISSOURI, 

BY 

MEMBERS  OF  THE  FACULTY. 


1878-79. 

COURSE  II.    VOLUME  I. 


1879: 

Slatctman  Book  and  Job  Print, 
Columbia,  ito. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1879,  by 

D.  R.  McANALLY,  Jr., 

Agent  of  the  Faculty  of  the  University  of  Missouri, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


PREFACE. 

Believing  that  the  threefold  relation  existing  be- 
tween  themselves,  the  students  under  their  care  and  the 
state,  demanded  something  more  than  the  ordinary  class- 
room work  at  their  hands,  the  members  of  the  Faculty 
of  the  University  of  Missouri  two  years  ago  determined 
to  prepare  a  series  of  lectures,  illustrative  of  the  special- 
ties of  the  various  departments,  and  sufficiently  popular 
in  character  to  be  attractive  not  only  to  the  undergrad- 
uates, but  also  to  the  public  at  large.  The  first  course, 
delivered  in  the  University  Chapel  during  the  winter  of 
1877-7S,  was  pronounced  so  successful  that  the  Faculty 
felt  encouraged  to  enter  upon  a  second,  and  this,  in  turn, 
was  received  with  indications  of  popular  approval  so 
flattering  in  character  that  it  was  resolved  to  publish  the 
entire  second  series.  This  volume  is  the  result  of  that 
determination.  The  lectures  herein  contained,  while  de- 
signed primarily  for  the  students  of  the  University,  nev- 
ertheless it  is  believed  do  not  lack  certain  elements 
of  popularity  which  render  them,  at  least  in  some  de- 
gree, adapted  to  the  wants  of  the  reading  public.  To 
that  public  this  book  is  now  presented  with  the  hope 
that  the  original  purpose  of  the  lectures  will  be  held  in 
remembrance,  and  with  the  expectation  that  succeeding 
volumes  will  prove  more  worthy  of  the  appreciation  al- 
ready so  kindly  manifested  by  the  friends  of  the  Univer- 
sity in  behalf  of  this  first  effort. 

The  University  op  Missouri,      i 
Columbia,  Boone  County,  Mo.,  1S79  ) 


TASLE    OE    CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

Petroleum — Paul  Schweitzer,      -     - 5 

Evolution  and  Creation — G.  C.  Swallow,        -     -          ...  65 

Insect  Ways — S.  M.  Tracy,        93 

Mathematics — Joseph  Ficklin, 115 

Three  Pronunciations  of  Latin — M.  M.  Fisher, 147 

Mosaic  Cosmogony — A.  Meyrowitz, 173 

The  Legend  of  Virginia — P.  Bliss,     -     -          181 

Linguistic  Curiosities — D.  R.  McAnally,       -          ....  207 

Arnold  of  Rugby — Grace  C.  Bibb, 239 

The  Professional  School — T.  J.  Lowry,     -           263 

The  Ideal  of  Art — George  C.  Bingham, 311 

Metaphysics — S.  S.  Laws, 32  s 

Advantages  of  Classical  Study — A    F.  Fleet, 421 

Study  of  Language — J.  S.  Black  well, 449 

Art — Conrad  Diehl, * 473 


PETROLEUM. 


By  Paul  Schweitzer,  Ph.  D.,  Professor  of  Chem- 
istry in  the  University  of  Missouri. 


Lecture  delivered  on  the  8th  of  February,  1879,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  a  joint  committee  of  the  Legislature,  sent  to  examine  into 
the  condition  and  wants  of  the  University,  and  written  for  publi- 
cation about  five  months  afterward. 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen:  I  consider  it  a  privi- 
lege to  be  able  to  occupy  this  stand  to-night,  for  the  Sth 
of  February  is  a  memorable  day  in  the  history  of  our 
University,  of  our  town  and  of  our  state.  It  has  proba- 
bly escaped  the  memory  of  most  of  you,  and  I  take 
pleasure  in  reminding  you  of  it,  that  to-day  is  the  forty- 
first  anniversary  of  the  birth  of  our  University.  On  the 
Sth  of  February,  1839,  the  bill  "to  provide  for  the  insti- 
tution and  support  of  the  State  University,"  drawn  up 
and  urged  by  patriotic  and  far-seeing  citizens,  became  a 
law  by  the  signature  of  the  Governor.  Men  in  our  own 
midst  took  an  active  part  in  the  proceedings,  and  it  was 
mainly  due  to  their  efforts,  aided  by  active  co-operation 
of  large-hearted  and  generous  citizens  of  our  county  and 
town,  that  the  University  was  located  here  and  the  law 
carried  into  effect  without  delay. 

In  how  far  the  expectations  of  the  founders  of  the 
University,  of  the  fathers  of  many  of  you  here  assembled 
to-night,  have  been  realized,  it  is   not  for  me   to  speak; 


6  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

suffice  it,  to  point  to  the  growing  interest  in  our  State 
University,  manifested  by  press  and  pulpit,  to  the  foster- 
ing care,  confidently  expected  at  the  hands  of  our  Leg- 
islature, and  to  this  audience,  willing  and  anxious  to  dis- 
cuss a  subject,  which  from  its  national  importance  as 
well  as  from  the  dangers  to  property  and  life,  surround- 
ing it,  claims  at  the  present  moment  the  attention  of  the 
citizens  of  the  state,  and  especially  of  our  Legislature,  in 
session  at  Jefferson  City,  and  contemplating,  I  am  in- 
formed, a  change  in  the  law  relating  to  the  inspection  of 
Petroleum. 

birey?ewAL  Petroleum,  as  the  name  implies,  means 
rock  oil,  and  is  the  oily,  more  or  less  volatile  liquid, 
which  exudes  at  different  places  on  our  globe  from  the 
rock  or  ground  below,  having  as  such  been  known  and 
used  for  different  purposes  from  very  early  times.  It 
was  known  to  the  ancient  Egyptians  and  Assyrians,  who 
obtained  it  from  the  valley  of  the  Euphrates  and  the 
neighborhood  of  Baku.  It  was  mentioned  2,000  years 
ago  by  Herodotus  as  occurring  on  the  island  of  Zante, 
and  later  by  Pliny  and  Dioscorides  tinder  the  name  of 
Sicilian  oil  as  coming  from  Agrigentum ;  but  to  name  all 
the  localities,  where  in  the  course  of  time  Petroleum  was 
discovered  and  used,  would  lead  too  far,  and  I  will  mere- 
ly state  that  the  earliest  mention  of  its  occurrence  in  our 
own  country  was  made  in  1750  in  a  report  of  the  com- 
mander of  Fort  Duquesne  to  General  Montcalm,  describ- 
ing the  ceremonies  of  the  Seneca  Indians  on  Oil  Creek, 
Pa.  Twenty  years  later  Peter  Kalm  gave  a  map  of  the 
Pennsylvania  Oil  Springs  in  his  "Travels  in  North 
America,"  published  in  1773,  and  in  1S19  oil  was  obtain- 
ed by  accident, in  sinking  two  salt  wells  on  the  Musking- 
hum  river,  Ohio,  the  same  thing  happening  in  1829  at 
Burkesville,  Ky.;   in  1833  Prof.  Silliman  described  the 


LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  7 

Seneca  Oil  spring(*)  of  Cuba,  Alleghany  county,  N.  Y., 
and  Hildreth  the  salt  wells  of  the  Little  Kanawha  val- 
ley, West  Va.,  which  yielded  in  1836  from  50  to  100 
barrels  of  Petroleum,  which  was  collected  and  sold  as 
medicine. 

In  1840  a  spouting  well  at  Burkesville,  Ky.,  yielded 
for  a  few  days  seventy-five  gallons  of  oil  a  minute,  but 
soon  failed;  in  1844  Murray  mentions  it  as  occurring  at 
Enniskillan,  Canada,  and  in  1850,  scarcely  30  years  ago, 
the  first  illuminating  oil,  made  from  crude  Petroleum, 
was  offered  for  sale  by  Samuel  Kier  at  Pittsburgh. 

Since  then  the  number  of  localities  in  the  United 
States,  at  which  Petroleum  is  found,  has  rapidly  increas- 
ed, and  the  improvements  in  lamps  for  burning  it,  to- 
gether with  the  introduction  in  1856  of  genuine  coal 
oil(f)  for  illuminating  purposes,  made  by  Joshua  Mer- 
rill of  Boston,  gave  an  impetus  to  the  production  and 
manufacture  of  Petroleum  and  coal  oil,  which  in  the 
course  of  a  few  years  not  only  completely  revolutionized 
the  manner  of  lighting  our  houses,  but  changed  the  di- 
rection and  thoughts  of  thousands  and  hundreds  of  thou- 
ands  of  human  beings. 

Old  trades  were  broken  up  and  new  ones  started; 
men  grew  rich  over  night  to  get  poor  again  on  the  day 
following;  excitement,  even  in  those  days  of  excitement 
and  civil  war,  ran  high,  and  multitudes  of  men  changed 
their  modes  of  life  with  their  habitations ;  and  now  after 
these  days  of  expectation  and  excitement  have  past 
away,  and  the  currents  of  life  and  trade  run  again  in 
smooth  and  well  defined  channels,  what  results  are  there 


(*)     The  so-called  Seneca  Oil,  used  for  medicinal  purposes  was 
not  from  this  spring,  but  from  Oil  Creek,  Pa. 

(f)     Made   by  destructive  distillation   of  bitumen,  bituminous 
coal,  shale  or  like  material. 


b  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

left  to  tell  of  the  great  spasmodic  and  powerful  effort  of 
so  many  men?  Light  has  been  brought  to  millions  of 
people;  their  hours  of  day  have  been  lengthened;  pine 
knots  and  tallow  dips  have  given  way  to  the  cheap  and 
cheerful  lamp;  and  last  but  not  least,  the  old  dreary  and 
unprofitable  winter  evenings  ot  farm  house  and  cottage 
have  been  replaced  by  pleasant  hours  of  recreation  and 
civilizing  influences  of  music,  improvement  and  study. 
And  this  boon  of  cheap  and  pleasant  light  has  not  been 
given  alone  to  our  own  countrymen,  but  its  blessings  ex- 
tend to  the  remotest  corners  of  our  globe,  witnesses  of 
American  enterprise  and  industry,  and  possible  perhaps 
through  the  concurrence  of  exceedingly  fortunate  cir- 
cumstances in  our  land. 

Yet  these  changes  did  not  occur  without  convul- 
sions. Their  beginnings  may  be  traced  to  the  28th  of 
August,  1859,  when  Col.  G.  L.  Drake,  the  superinten- 
dent of  the  Pennsylvania  Rock  Oil  Company,  thinking 
to  obtain  oil  like  water  by  sinking  an  artesian  well,  car- 
ried out  this  idea  amid  the  jeers  and  jokes  of  his  neigh- 
bors, and  on  that  day  "struck  oil"  at  a  depth  of  71  feet, 
and  collected  a  thousand  gallons  a  day,  which  sold  at  the 
rate  of  sixty  cents  a  gallon  or  twenty-three  dollars  a 
barrel. 

From  that  moment  the  scene  changes  as  if  by 
magic;  the  doubting  neighbors  are  gone;  the  sur- 
rounding wilderness,  broken  only  by  an  occasional 
cottage  and  cornfield,  shows  sighs  of  life;  men  of 
business,  tramps  and  travelers  appear,  attracted  by 
rumors  of  unheard  of  riches,  quickly,  easily  and  cer- 
tainly acquired. 

They  come  first  singly  like  the  drops  ot  a  passing 
shower,  but  soon  swell  to  a  current  like  a  mountain 
stream  after  a  rain,  and  at  last  pass  into  a  rushing  flood  of 


LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  9 

humanity,  pressing-  eagerly  and  anxiously  onward  to 
surely  expected  wealth  and  fortune.  Hillside  and  valley 
are  stripped  of  covering;  log  house  and  shanty  grow  up 
over  night;  hand  and  machine  are  busy  to  tap  the  earth 
of  its  liquid  treasure.  A  forest  of  derricks  is  seen 
where  but  yesterday  was  a  forest  of  trees;  all  is  work- 
ing, drilling,  pumping,  collecting  and  shipping.  By  the 
end  of  the  year  200  oil  wells  are  sunk  and  in  operation, 
and  the  work  still  continues  and  is  to  continue  for  years 
to  come(3).  Places  grow  up  and  disappear  like  mush- 
rooms; the  history  of  the  world,  probably,  shows  not  an- 
other phase  like  it;  within  the  short  space  of  three  months 
a  place  of  two  houses  becomes  a  town  of  1,600  inhabi- 
tants with  virtues  and  vices,  joys  and  sorrows,  piety  and 
profanity.  And  in  less  than  a  year,  through  failure  of 
wells,  through  fire,  death  and  removal,  all  had  disap- 
peared so  effectually,  that  the  passing  wanderer  was 
scarcely  able  to  point  out  in  the  desolation  and  growing 
brush,  where  once  stood  the  town  of  Pithole. 

This  was  the  time  and  these  the  symptoms  of  the  oil 
fever,  a  repetition  of  the  gold  fewer  of  12  years  before, 
and  in  its  results,  I  am  sure,  much  more  beneficial.  True, 
men  got  rich  and  got  poor  again;  but  if  the  golden  cup, 
after  the  first  taste,  slipped  from  their  grasp  and  despair 
led  them  to  ruin,  they  were  only  a  few  in  comparison 
with  the  rest,  and  followed  the  inexorable  law,  which 
says  that  conscious  effort  is  required  in  retaining,  as  well 
as  in  attaining,  what  is  desirable  in  life. 

Scarcely  one  of  the  farmers  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Oil  Creek,  who  in  the  space  of  a  few  months  became 
possessed  of  half  a  million  or  a  million  of  dollars,  was 
able  to  keep  it  long;  incompetence,  extravagance  and 
carelessness  spent  the  money  as  fast  as  it  came,  and  in  a 
few  years  the  original  owners  of  the  land  were  found  in 
no  way  better  off,  than  they  had  been  before. 


10  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

The  immediate  effect  of  this  large  and  sudden  in- 
flux of  ambitious  and  energetic  men  into  the  Pennsyl- 
vania oil  district,  all  bent  upon  obtaining  a  large  quantity 
of  Petroleum  was  of  course  an  overproduction  with  con- 
sequent fall  of  prices;  and  it  is  surely  no  wonder,  when 
we  bear  in  mind  that  most  of  the  rock  oil  obtained  pre- 
viously had  been  used  for  medicinal  purposes  only.  In 
1852  Coal  oil  was  made  by  Philbrick  and  Atwood  of 
Waltham,  Mass.,  for  the  first  time  in  the  United  States 
and  offered  for  sale  in  the  market,  (Coup  oil,  from  the 
coup'  d'etat  of  Napoleon),  but  it  was  used  for  purposes  of 
lubrication,  and  not  till  1856  was  an  illuminating  oil  of 
like  nature  made  and  sold  here,  though  it  had  previous- 
ly been  imported  and  used  to  a  limited  extent.  This  gen- 
uine Coal  oil  differs  however  materially  from  Petroleum 
in  having  a  greater  specific  gravity,  in  consequence  of 
which  it  could  be  burned  with  little  or  no  alteration  in 
the  old  fashioned  oil  lamps.  It  was  superior  as  an  illum- 
inator and  cheapar  than  any  of  the  fatty  oils  and  explo- 
sive mixtures  used  then,  and  the  industry  spread  until  in 
i860  14  establishments  for  producing  Kerosene(*)  were 
scattered  over  the  Atlantic  States  and  produced  100,- 
000  barrels  of  it  a  year  worth  $2,142,693. 

Most  of  this  remained,  however,  in  the  east,  the 
west  and  south  using  the  old  materials  in  the  old  lamps. 

In  this  condition  of  affairs  Pennsylvania  steps  sud- 
denly in  with  250,000  barrels  of  oil,  raising  this  produc- 
tion the  next  year  to  two  millions,  the  year  after  to  3 
millions,  and  going  up  from  year  to  year  until  the  stu- 
penduous  figures  of  to-day  are  reached(i).  What  wonder 
that  the  price  of  Petroleum,  for  which  there  was  no  market 

(*)     A  superior  brand  of  coal  oil,  the  name  being  derived  from 
two  Greek  words  Ker,  the  heart,  and  Ozaina  the  odor. 


LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  11 

because  there  was  no  use,  should  decline;  it  fell  rapidly 
from  $20  a  barrel  in  1859  to  $9.60  in  i860,  to  $0.49  in  1861, 
and  even  for  a  portion  of  this  and  the  following  year  to 
$0.10  a  barrel,  in  some  instances  the  barrel  included.  It 
was  then  that  about  5  million  barrels  cf  oil  were  allowed 
to  run  waste  into  the  creeks  and  rivers,  which  by  getting 
ignited  at  times,  through  carelessness  or  accident,  caused 
conflagrations  that  threatened  the  very  existence  of  towns 
and  villages  in  their  course,  and  destroyed  millions  and 
millions  of  property.  But  the  industry,  so  auspiciously 
started,  could  not  be  checked ;  it  possessed  within  itself 
all  the  elements  of  ultimate  success.  A  cheap,  reliable  and 
brilliant  source  of  light  was  needed  outside  of  the  larger 
towns  all  over  the  country;  and  since  Professor  Silli- 
man  in  1855  in  the  first  practical  report  ever  made  on 
Petroleum,  had  clearly  pointed  out  its  advantages  and  its 
mode  of  treatment  for  obtaining  the  best  results,  it  was 
simply  for  American  ingenuity  to  step  in,  and  overcome 
the  difficulties  that  might  be  in  the  way  of  its  successful 
employment.  Lamps  for  it  had  to  be  invented,  and 
present^  we  see  the  inventor  at  work.  The  first  patent 
for  a  Petroleum  lamp,  so-named,  was  issued  in  1S59,  and 
during  the  year  the  total  number  of  grants  for  patents  of 
lamps,  burners  and  appliances  in  general  rose  to  40,  the 
next  year  to  71,  the  next  to  53,  the  one  after  that  to  101, 
and  so  on  regularly  up  to  the  present  time. (2) 

The  difficulties  in  the  construction  of  lamps  and 
burners  for  Petroleum,  rested  mainly  on  its  low  specific 
gravity  and  high  percentage  of  carbon,  and  were  over- 
come almost  at  the  outset.  Some  of  the  burners  described 
and  patented  then  were  never  improved  upon  and  the 
continuity  of  the  stream  of  patents  up  to  the  present 
day,  though  demonstrating  that  the  perfect  burner  and 
perfect  lamp  have  not  been  invented  yet,   demonstrates 


12  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

also  that  its  construction  must  be  attempted  upon  a  dif- 
ferent and  novel  principle. 

The  relatively  successful  solution  of  this  problem 
had,  however,  an  immediate  and  rather  important  prac- 
tical result:  it  killed  in  the  first  instance  at  one  blow  the 
Whale  oil  fisheries,  which  had  flourished  so  long  on  the 
Atlantic  coast,  New  England  alone  sending  out  annually 
a  fleet  of  600  whaling  vessels;  and  it  stopped  in  the  second 
instance,  the  Coal  oil  distilleries  that  had  just  started  into 
successful  existence,  and  converted  them  into  Petroleum 
refineries,  perpetuating  thereby  the  name  of  Kerosene, 
by  transmitting  it  from  the  artificial  to  the  natural  pro- 
duct. 

The  price  of  oil  rose  again,  and  more  powerful  ef- 
forts were  made  for  its  possession,  and  with  such  uccess 
that  soon  all  means  for  storing  or  carrying  it  to  market 
failed ;  single"  wells  spouted  at  the  rate  of  3,000  barrels  a 
day(*)  with  no  provision  to  collect  it  or  stop  its  flow. 
Tanks  of  novel  construction  were  used :  the  natural  basins 
formed  by  building  dams  across  valleys,  and  conducting 
the  oil  into  them  as  into  lakes.  Energy  and  enter- 
prise, however,  soon  provided  suitable  vessels;  wood- 
en and  iron  tanks,  increasing  yearly  in  size  until  at  pres- 
ent many  of  them  have  a  capacity  of   125,000   barrels. 

At  the  same  time  a  project  that  had  once  failed  was 
taken  up  again  and  carried  into  successful  operation;  it 
was  the  laying  of  wrought-iron  conduit  pipes  directly 
from  the  wells  to  the  railroad  stations.  This  was  ac- 
complished with  the  usual  energy,  connecting  f.  e.  Mil- 
lerstown  with  Pittsburgh,  32  miles  distant,  by  means  of  a 
three  inch  pipe,  laid  at  the  rate  of  a  mile  a  day  and  tested 
within  the  same  time  for  a  pressure  of   1200  pounds  per 


(*)     The  Phillips  and  Empire  wells,   sunk  in    1S61,  which   have 
yielded  upward  of  a  hall'  a  million  barrels  each". 


TjECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  18 

square  inch.  Like  a  huge  snake  it  runs  over  the  surface 
of  the  country,  down  valleys  and  up  hills,  crossing  on  its 
way  27  turnpikes  and  as  many  creeks  and  rivers,  one  of 
which  and  a  railroad  track  pass  above  it;  watched  day  and 
night  in  its  entire  length,  it  is  furnished  with  six  interme- 
diate stations,  at  each  of  which  a  40  horse  power  steam 
engine  raises  the  oil  to  an  elevated  tank  of  1500  barrels 
capacity,  from  where  it  flows  by  gravity  to  the  next  sta- 
tion. This  arrangement  is  found  necessary  to  speedy 
transportation,  though  Millerstown  is  335  feet  higher 
than  Pittsburgh. 

The  system,  which  of  all  so  far  devised  is  the  cheap- 
est, has  grown  to  grand  dimensions.  The  whole  Penn- 
sylvania oil  district  is  intersected  by  a  network  of  pipes, 
the  aggregate  length  of  which  was  3,000  miles  on  the 
first  of  January,  1879.  They  are  under  the  control  of  15 
companies,  who  from  time  to  time  form  pools  under  the 
name  of  "The  United  Pipe  Lines,"  which  dissolve  again 
as  their  interests  diverge   or  mutually  conflict(*). 

(*)         [Stowell's  Petroleum  Reporter,  Dec.  16,  1878.] 
UNITED  PIPE  LINES. 
We  clip  the  following  in  regard  to  the  organization  and  busi- 
ness capacity  of  the  United  Pipe  Lines,  from  their  recent  report 
addressed  to  their  patrons  and  the  public : 

ORGANIZATION. 

The  United  Pipe  Line  Company  was  organized  in  1877  by  a 
consolidation  between  the  following  companies,  viz:  The  (old) 
United  Pipe  Lines,  the  Antwerp  and  Oil  City  Pipe  Companies, the 
Atlantic  Pipe  Company,  the  American  Transfer  Company,  (in 
Clarion  and  Venango  counties,)  and  the  Sandy  Pipe  Line. 

These  formed  the  association  now  known  as  the  United  Pipe 
Lines,  which  was  incorporated  in  March,  1877,  with  a  capital  of 
three  million  dollars. 

CAPACITY  OF  THE  LINES. 

At  the  present  time,  October,  1S7S,  the  company  owns,  and 
tus  in  active  operation,  over  fifteen  hundred  (1,500)  miles  of  two 
(2)  inch  pipe,  and  three  hundred  (300)  miles  of  three  (3)  and  four 
(4)  inch  pipe.  It  has  connected  with  these  pipes,  more  than  three 
hundred  and  fifty  (350)  iron  tanks,  with  a  capacity  of  over  5,200,- 


14  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

The  business  of  these  pipes  and  transportation  lines 
is  at  present  so  widely  extended,  that  delivery  tanks  are 
found  in  nearly  all  eastern  refining-  centres,  and  a  pipe 
line  certificate  for  any  number  of  barrels  of  oil  bought  at 
Pittsburgh,  enables  the  holder  to  draw  this  quantity 
any  where  in  the  east.  These  sales  used  to  be  effected 
by  measure  alone,  and  resulted  in  so  much  annoy- 
ance to  both  buyer  and  seller,  that  all  transactions  are 
made  at  present  by  weight  alone  in  refined  as  well  as 
in  crude  oil,  and  the  price  and  quantity  adjusted  in 
accordance  with  certain  well-defined  rules  about  specific 
gravity,  fire  test  and  color. 

ooo  barrels  of  forty-two  (42)  gallons  each,  of  which  1,800,- 
000  barrels  are  owned  by  the  company,  and  3, 400,000  barrels  held 
by  them  under  contract  with  the  owners.  It  owns  over  eight  hun- 
dred (800)  miles  of  telegraph  wire  connecting  all  its  offices  and 
stations  with  each  other,  and  with  the  general  office  of  the  compa- 
ny at  Oil  City,  Pennsylvania.  It  is  fully  cquiped  with  boilers, 
pumps,  and  all  necessary  means  for  receiving  and  transporting  to 
delivery  points,  at  least  seventy-five  thousand  (75,000)  barrels  of 
oil  per  day.  It  has  points  of  delivery  upon  all  railroads  in  the  Oil 
Regions,  at  which  twenty-five  hundred  (2,500)  cars,  containing  two 
hundred  and  twenty -five  thousand  (225,000)  barrels  can  be  loaded 
daily;  and  can  also  deliver  directly  to  refineries  at  Oil  City,  Pa. 

[Stowell's  Petroleum  Reporter,  June  16,  '79.] 
TIDE  WATER  PIPE  CO.  LIMITED  OPENED. 

At  four  o'cIock  in  the  afternoon  of  May  2Sth  the  monster 
pump  of  the  Tide  Water  Pipe  Co.  Limited  was  set  in  motion  at 
Corryville,  and  the  first  oil  entered  the  pipe  and  started  towards 
Williamsport,  reaching  the  latter  place  about  7:10,  p.  m.,  on  June 
4th,  one  hundred  and  forty-seven  hours  and  ten  minutes  after 
leaving  Corryville. 

The  quantity  required  to  fill  the  pipe  was  20,000  bbls.  This  is 
the  first  6-inch  pipe  line  of  any  considerable  length  ever  construct- 
ed. The  line  is  100  miles  long.  There  are  but  two  pumping  stations, 
one  at  Corryville,  and  the  other  22^4  miles  from  this  place.  The 
highest  elevation  1,200  feet  is  reached  about  31  miles  east  of  Cor- 
ryville, and  from  this  point  the  oil  reaches  Williamsport  bv  gravity. 

The  estimated  cost  of  the  line  is  between  $700,000  and  $800,- 
000.  The  weight  of  pipe  used  is  5,000  tons.  The  minimum  capacity 
of  the  line  is  6,000  bbls.  daily,  which  can  be  increased  under  pres- 
sure to  10,000  bbls. 


LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  15 

From  the  railroad  stations  the  oil  is  carried  to  the 
refineries,  and  there  a  difficulty  was  met,  growing  out  of 
the  property  of  Petroleum,  of  passing  through  the  pores 
of  the  casks  in  which  it  was  shipped;  this  caused  in  the 
beginning  much  annoyance  and  much  loss;  shipments 
would  be  made  to  New  York  and  Boston,  the  barrels 
arriving  there  only  half  filled,  and  whole  cargoes  would 
disappear  bodily  in  their  passage  across  the  ocean.  Many 
of  you  doubtless  remember,  in  these  early  days,  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  oil  trains,  with  their  platform  cars  freight- 
with  barrels,  each  one  perspiring,  as  it  were,  from  every 
pore,  and  leaving  behind  an  oily,  offensive  and  unsavory 
trail. 

But  the  inventor  stepped  in  again,  and  one  of  the 
first  patents  taken  effected  the  cure.  It  consisted  in  cov- 
ering the  inside  of  the  barrels  with  a  coating  of  liquid 
glue,  forced  into  the  pores  of  the  wood  by  pressure;  the 
outside  is  then  painted  blue,  the  heads  white  and  the 
barrel  is  ready  to  receive  its  charge,  42  gallons,  more  or 
less,  which  it  retains  admirably  and  for  a  long  time. 

The  immediate  effect,  however,  of  the  escape  of  the 
oil  through  the  casks,  coupled  with  the  need  of  cheaper 
transportation,  brought  about  the  construction  of  so-call- 
ed tank  cars,  wrought-iron  boilers  of  85  barrels  capacity, 
on  trucks,  which  proved  so  convenient  in  every  way  that 
scores  of  them  were  built,  2,500  being  in  use  at  present  in 
Pennsylvania  alone,  and  probably  no  less  than  5,000  in 
the  United  States.  At  the  same  time  tank-boats  were 
designed,  huge  floating  reservoirs,  which  hold  3,000 
barrels  of  oil  each,  and  distribute  its  contents  to  the  dif- 
ferent points  on  the  river  and  on  the  Erie  canal.  A  hun- 
dred of  them  are  in  operation  at  present  during  the 
summer  months. 


16  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

™asp™al  Having  thus  sketched  the  growth  of  the 
Petroleum  industry,  and  followed  the  oil  in  its  course 
from  well  to  refinery,  we  will  now  take  a  look  at  its 
commercial  importance,  and  then  answer  the  questions 
of  what  it  is,  why  and  how  it  is  refined,  and  what  should 
be  the  safeguards  that  must  be  taken,  in  order  to  protect 
its  consumers  against  danger  and  fraud?  A  look  at  the 
tables(4-6)shows  us  that  the  Pennsylvania  district  produc- 
ed during  the  calender  year  of  187S,  15,165,462  barrels  of 
oil  of  the  value  at  the  wells  of  $21,689,920,  while  the  rest 
of  the  United  States  produced  445,000  barrels  valued  at 
$645,250,  and  that  there  were  exported  in  the  same  time 
8,071,780  barrels  of  Petroleum  and  its  products,  repre- 
senting a  value  of  $46,730,972.  This  export,  according 
to  the  report  of  the  Chief  of  the  Bureau  of  Statistics, 
places  Petroleum  the  fifth  in  the  list  of  important  com- 
modities sent  abroad. (*)  During  the  20  years  preceding, 
that  is  since  1S59,  there  have  been  produced  by  Pennsyl- 
vania 111,017,862  barrels  of  oil  valued  at  $293,872,162, 
and  by  the  rest  of  the  United  States  4,706,500  barrels 
valued  at  $12,472,225,  while  the  total  exports  reached 
the  equivalent  of  54,878,837  barrels  with  a  value  of 
$488,079,842.  Truly  astonishing  figures,  which  in  con- 
nection with  the  manufacture  and  export  of  lamps  and 
burners  and  the  different  industries,  directly  and  indirect- 
ly bearing  upon  the  production,  transportation  and  refin- 
ing of  Petroleum,  indicate  the  magnitude  of  the  business, 
and  serve  to   furnish  an   idea  of  the  greit  army   of  men 

(*)     Annual  Report   of  Chief  of  the    Bureau    of  Statistics    on 
the  Commerce  and  Navigation  of  the  United  States,  for  the  fiscal 
year  ended  June  30,  1S7S. — Statistical  Abstract,  page  XL. 
1    Cotton,  raw,  exported $180,031,484 

2.  Wheat 96,872,016 

3.  Pork,  bacon,  hams  and  lard 86,679,979 

4.  Indian  Corn 48,030,358 

5.  Petroleum  and  products  of 46,574,974 


LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  17 

that  depend  upon  it  for  a  livelihood  for  themselves  and 
for  their  families. 

composition.  Petroleum  in  its  natural  condition  is  a 
rather  complicated  liquid,  exhibiting  at  the  different 
places  of  its  occurrence  differences  in  aspect,  gravity, 
quality  and  composition.  While  the  petroleum  f.  e. 
from  some  parts  of  Europe  is  light,  clear,  nearly  color- 
less and  odorless  and  in  need  of  little  refining,  that  of 
our  own  country  is  for  the  most  part  thick,  greenish 
black,  strongly  odorous  and  totally  unfit  for  immediate 
use.  Our  best  samples  are  at  the  most  translucent,  yel- 
lowish or  brownish  red  and  exhibit  in  a  marked  degree 
the  peculiar  phenomenon  called  fluorescence,  which  is 
retained  by  it  even  after  refinement.  Its  specific  gravity 
varies  from  30  to  32CB  at  Franklin,  Pa.,  to  52°B  at 
Pomery,  Ohio.  The  differences  in  the  eastern  markets 
are  however  only  ^6°B  to  48°B,  they  being  supplied 
with  oil,  which  comes  from  the  distributing  tanks  of  the 
pipe  line  companies,  and  which  is  a  pretty  thorough  and 
uniform  mixture. 

The  first  step  in  the  analysis  of  Petroleum  may  be 
said  to  have  been  taken  by  Unverdorbcn  in  1S31,  who 
separated  it  by  fractional  distillation  into  some  of  its  con- 
stituents. Since  then,  many  illustrious  chemists  have 
been  engaged  in  the  difficult  task  of  unraveling  its  com- 
position, difficult  for  the  reason  that  Petroleum  is  not  a 
chemical  compound,  but  a  mixture  of  a  large  number  of 
compounds,  some  of  which  are  what  chemists  call  iso- 
meric, that  is  they  possess  the-  same  percentage  compo- 
sition of  their  elements,  but  different  chemical  and  phys- 
ical properties. 

Nearly  all  the  constituents  of  Petroleum  belong  to 
that  well  defined  group  of  compounds  called  Hydrocar- 
bon, contain  nothing  but   Carbon  and  Hydrogen   united 


18  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

in  different  proportions,  and  of  which  Marsh  gas  and 
Olefiant  gas,  are  examples;  both  of  these  arc  in  fact  con- 
stituents of  crude  Petroleum,  but  soon  escape  with  oth- 
ers on  account  of  their  volatility ;  each  is  the  beginnino- 
member  of  a  distinct  series  of  compounds  which  follow 
one  another  regularly  and  lawfully  up  to  those  of  a  most 
complicated  nature.  Fourteen  compounds  of  the  Marsh 
gas  or  Paraffine  series  and  three  of  the  Olefiant  gas 
series  have  so  far  been  identified  in  Petroleum,  without, 
however,  in  the  least  exhausting  the  stock,  which  with 
at  least  three  other  substances  of  a  different  nature  make 
the  total  number  of  compounds  in  American  Petroleum 
twenty(7).  It  may  be  stated  in  this  connection,  that  none 
of  these  compounds  belong  to  groups  from  which  the 
various  and  brilliant  aniline  or  naphthaline  dyes  are  de- 
rived, all  statements  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding. 

Bpr0vess.  You  understand,  then,  that  Petroleum  is  a 
complicated  body;  and  it  is  owing  doubtless  to  its  com- 
plicated nature  that  the  question  as  to  its  origin  has  not 
yet  been  satisfactorily  settled.  We  will  discuss,  however, 
neither  this  nor  the  other  question  intimately  connected 
with  it,  viz :  the  manner  and  place  of  its  occurrence, 
but  turn  our  attention  to  more  practical  questions,  bear- 
ing upon  the  conversion  of  it  into  burning  oil  or  kero- 
sene by  the  process  of  refining,  which  consists  not,  as 
might  be  supposed,  in  a  separation  of  any  or  all  of  the 
twenty  compounds  mentioned,  but  in  a  separation  of  a 
few  products  of  commercial  importance  with  well  defin- 
ed properties  and  with  unlimited  powers  of  application. 
The  work  of  the  chemist  is  inventive  and  his  object 
knowledge;  the  work  of  the  refiner  is  applicative  and 
his  object  gain. 

From  this  practical  point  of  view,  Petroleum  may 
be  said  to  possess  properties,  many    of  which   must   be 


LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  19 

eradicated  or  at  least  materially  changed,  before  it  will 
answer  the  different  purposes  to  which  it  is  applied,  and 
since  we  desire  to  confine  ourselves  to  Kerosene  oil,  we 
will  state  here  its  requirements  in  the  order  of  their  im- 
portance.    A  good  Kerosene  oil  should  be 

i.  Safe,  that  is  to  say  not  readily  inflammable. 

2.  Odorless,  that  is  to  say  not  possessing  a  disagreeable  odor. 

3.  Clean,  that  is  to  say  not  creeping  over. 

4.  Pure,  that  is  to  say  not  encrusting  the  wick. 

5.  Light,  that  is  to  say  not  having  too  high  a  specific  gravity. 

6.  Colorless. 

7.  Cheap. 

Safety  is  placed  at  the  head  and  cheapness  at  the 
foot  of  the  list,  and  all  have  to  be  reached  by  the  three 
operations  of  the  refining  process,  which  are: 

1.  Fractional  distillation. 

2.  Treatment  with  Chemicals. 

3.  Washing  with  water  and  perhaps  another  distillation. 

The  first  step,  fractional  distillation,  is  carried  on  in 
large  stills,  in  which  the  crude  oil  is  subjected  to  gradu- 
ally-increased direct  heat,  and  the  different  products  col- 
lected by  suitable  arrangements  at  different  parts  of  the 
establishment;  or  the  crude  oil  is  steamed  to  get  rid  of 
the  more  volatile  and  inflammable  gases,  and  then  sub- 
jected for  a  number  of  hours  to  a  uniformly  elevated 
temperature,  which  need  not  however  approach  the  boil- 
ing point  of  the  oil  when  the  heavier  ones  split  up,  as  it 
were,  into  still  heavier  ones,  and  in  lighter  or  illuminat- 
ing oils,  increasing  thereby  their  quantity,  or  lastly  the 
two  processes  are  combined  in  various  ways  to  suit  the 
character  of  the  crude  oil  worked,  and  the  specialty  in 
which  one  or  the  other  refinery  may  excel. 

The  percentages  of  Kerosene  obtained  by  these 
three  modifications  A,  B  and  C  of  the  process  of  frac- 
tional distillation  are  55  per  cent.,  66  per  cent,  and  75 
per  cent. (8)     The  last  would  seem  to  be  the  most  advan- 


20  UNIVERSITY    Ob'    MISSOURI. 

tageous,  but  the  quality  of  the  75  per  cent,  of  oil  obtain- 
ed by  it  is  inferior  to  the  55  per  cent,  and  66  per  cent,  of 
oil  obtained  by  A  and  B.  Bourgougnon,  one  of  the 
Petroleum  inspectors  of  the  New  York  Produce  Ex- 
change, states  the  amount  of  burning  oil  in  the  crude  oil 
of  the  New  York  market  to  be  60  per  cent,  and  66  per 
cent,  obtained  by  cracking,  i.  e.,  partial  destruction  of  the 
lubricating  oil  and  paraffin  is  probably  the  highest 
amount,  which  can  at  present  be  obtained  from  Ameri- 
can Petroleum(9). 

The  Kerosene  obtained  by  the  previous  operation 
has  now  been  freed  from  the  light  and  heavy  portion  of 
the  crude  oil,  both  being  objectionable,  the  former  or 
naphtha  on  account  of  its  ready  inflammability  and  the 
latter  or  lubricating  oil  on  account  of  the  difficulty  of 
burning  it  in  our  ordinary  lamps.  The  first  and  fifth 
points  in  the  list  of  requirements  have  been  covered  and 
the  way  prepared  to  reach  the  others;  the  oil  is  still  col- 
ored, possessed  of  an  odor,  which  if  anything  is  more 
unpleasant  than  that  of  the  crude  oil,  and  of  ingredients, 
which  if  not  removed  would  speedily  encrust  the  wick 
and  weaken  its  illuminating  power.  It  is  run  into  large 
cylindrical  tanks  of  1,800  barrels  capacity,  where  it  is 
agitated  for  some  time  with  strong  sulphuric  acid  or  oil 
of  vitriol  in  the  proportion  of  44  gallons  of  the  latter  to 
100  barrels  of  the  former.  The  effect  of  this  is  to  turn 
black  or  carbonize,  that  is  destroy  the  impurities,  which 
impart  to  the  oil  its  odor,  color  and  other  objectionable 
features;  these  subside  at  the  end  of  the  operation  with 
the  oil  of  vitriol,  and  are  removed  by  a  faucet  at  the 
bottom  of  the  agitator. 

Water  and  caustic  soda  lye  are  then  added  in  proper 
quantity  to  neutralize  the  acid,  which  may  have  remain- 
ed suspended    in  the  oil,  after  which  the   washing  with 


LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  21 

water  is  continued  to  remove  the  last  traces  of  saline 
and  tarry  matter  remaining.  The  oil  is  then  ready  for 
the  market,  either  directly,  or  after  subjecting  it  to 
some  minor  operations,  as  exposing  it  for  some  hours  to 
diffused  daylight  and  bleaching  it,  or  even  distilling  it 
for  a  second  and  last  time. 

protection.  It  >s  now  the  refined  or  Kerosene  oil  of 
commerce,  and  supposing  the  operations  mentioned  to 
have  been  performed  judiciously  and  conscientiously, 
possessed  of  the  desired,  qualities ;  it  can  be  placed  in  the 
hands  of  the  consumer  without  fear  and  without  risk,  a 
messenger  of  joy  and  of  enlightenment.  But  has  this 
been  the  experience  of  the  world,  and  our  own  expe- 
rience? have  complaints  about  quality  or  price  of  it  never 
reached  us?  have  accidents  from  unexpected  ignition  or 
explosion  of  oil,  even  when  carefully  handled,  never 
been  recorded?  Alas,  we  know  too  well  the  an- 
swer to  these  questions,  and  though  we  will  not 
attribute  all  accidents  to  inferior  illuminating  oils,  a 
large  number  arc  undoubtedly  chargeable  to  them, 
and  to  the  parties  who  placed  them  either  fraudulently 
or  ignorantly  on  the  market;  a  long  and  melancholy 
record  testifies  loudly  to  error  or  crime  committed. 
Our  wives  and  children  on  whom  the  danger  from 
inferior  oils  with  its  consequences  mainly  falls,  call 
for  protection,  and  when  the  state  steps  in  for  the  very 
purpose  of  affording  it,  can  political  consideration  or  sec- 
tional feeling,  can  protective  legislation,  that  protects  the 
few  at  the  expense  of  the  many,  or  even  ignorance  of 
the  subject  on  the  part  of  those  who  frame  the  laws,  be 
set  up  as  an  excuse  for  scattering  broadcast  those  messen- 
gers of  harm,  which  by  bearing  upon  their  face  the 
license  and  stamp  of  the  law,  lull  the  buyer  into  a  feel- 
ing of  security,  false  and  illusory,  worse  than  the  knowl- 
edge of  imminent  danger? 


22  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

These  remarks  apply  to  all  oils  sold  before  the  time 
of  Petroleum  legislation,  and  to  the  oils  still  in  many  of 
our  states,  in  which  legislation  has  attempted  protection, 
or  at  least  regulation ;  it  is  a  fact  that  a  large  -propor- 
tion of  the  oils  sold  in  our  own  state  during  the  past 
four  years  have  been  unsafe  and  have  not  come  up  to  the 
requirements  of  the  la%v(io).  This  has  been  brought 
about  in  the  first  instance  by  want  of  knowledge  of  the 
character  and  properties  of  Petroleum  on  the  part  of  leg- 
islators, coal  oil  inspectors  and  the  public  in  general ;  and  in 
the  second  instance,  to  say  the  least  by  too  broad  legisla- 
tion. I  would  state  it  as  an  axiom,  which  I  challenge 
any  one  to  contradict:  that  the  interests  of  the  refner 
and  dealer  must  adjust  themselves  upon  the  basis  of  se- 
curity to  the  masses,  not  this  to  interests  outside  and 
different  from  its  own.  In  the  absence  of  strictly  scien- 
tific tests  and  with  the  one  generally  employed  at  pres- 
ent the  oil  should  be  made  to  appear  as  bad  as  possible, 
and  not  as  good  as  possible,  and  in  this  light  we  will  try 
to  determine  what  constitutes  a  safe  oil  and  the  method 
of  ascertaining  its  safety. 

An  explosion  is  a  rapid  or  practically  instantaneous 
production  in  a  confined  space  of  a  large  volume  of  gas, 
which  acts  on  account  of  its  elasticity  upon  its  enclosure, 
and  forces  it  in  the  direction  of  lenst  resistance,  or 
shatters  it  to  pieces.  Ordinarily  explosions  are  the  direct 
result  of  chemical  action,  as  when  a  combustible  body, 
intimately  mixed  with  Oxygen  or  a  substance  readily 
furnishing  it,  comes  in  contact  with  a  light;  the  combus- 
tion results  in  the  formation  of  a  large  body  of  gas  which 
in  proportion  to  its  volume  exerts  an  explosive  force. 
Coal  oil  or  naphtha  can,  therefore,  never  explode  by 
themselves;  Oxygen  or  atmospheric  air  is  needed  to 
form  with  them  a  mixture;  and  since  gases  and  fluids  do 


LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  23 

not  mix,  it  follows  that  Coal  oil  must  first  assume  the 
gaseous  state  or  be  volatilized  before  the  conditions  for 
an  explosion  can  be  reached ;  in  proportion  now  as  coal 
oil  is  ready  to  do  this  the  chances  for  the  explosion  in- 
crease. 

But  it  is  within  the  nature  of  things,  that  evapora- 
tion increases  with  increase  of  temperature,  that  coal  oil 
becomes  gaseous  or  yields  a  vapor  in  proportion  as  it 
gets  warmer;  and  the  main  practical  difference  between 
it  and  naphtha  lies  in  the  fact,  that  while  the  latter  as- 
sumes the  gaseous  condition  and  will  take  fire  or  ex- 
plode when  mixed  with  air  at  the  low  temperatures  of 
our  winters,  the  former  requires  heating  to  a  variable 
extent  to  produce  the  same  result.  It  has  been  ascer- 
tained that  oil  after  burning  in  well  constructed  lamps 
for  several  hours  rises  10  degrees  higher  than  the  tem- 
perature of  the  surrounding  air,  and  since  this  is  occa- 
sionally in  our  latitude  ioo°  Fahrenheit,  it  follows  that  the 
oil  may  then  be  of  the  temperature  of  no0  Fahrenheit. 
At  or  rather  below  this  temperature  no  oil  should  disen- 
gage a  combustible  vapor  in  such  quantities  as  to  take 
fire  on  the  approach  of  a  light,  for  should  it  do  so,  the 
mixture  of  this  vapor  with  atmospheric  air  will  surely 
result  in  an  explosion,  no"  Fahrenheit  should  therefore 
bejixed  as  the  minimum  point  of  safety  for  all  burning 
oils.  But  if  temperature  is  the  measure  of  safety  for  an 
oil,  wrhy  not  make  it  i8o°  or  2000  Fahrenheit;  a  greater 
degree  of  safety  would  be  reached  and  accidents  become 
rare  or  perhaps  unknown :  simply  because  the  advan- 
tages reached  on  the  one  hand  are  offset  by  corres- 
ponding greater  disadvantages  on  the  other;  the  oil 
would  become  dearer  and  be  of  much  less  illuminating 
power  than  it  has  at  present,  for  this  dcp.mds,  all  things 
considered,  on  its  fluidity   or  lightness,  which   is  propor- 


24  UNIVERSITY    OP   MISSOURI. 

ttonal  to  its  safety.  A  word  may  be  said  here  in  regard 
to  patent  preparations  and  patent  lamps  for  rendering 
naphtha  and  unsafe  oils  safe.  All  such  contrivances  are 
utterly  useless.  No  unsafe  oil  can  be  made  safe  by  any 
preparation  and  will  not  be  safe  to  burn  in  any  lamp, 
even  if  called  a  safety  lamp;  but  a  safe  oil  will  be  safe 
always  and  in  all  lamps. 

No  fear  need  be  had  that  by  making  the  law  strin- 
gent and  protection  real,  the  price  of  oil  would  rise  to 
any  great  extent  or  rise  at  all.  The  so-called  150  fire 
test  oil  was  sold  during  the  past  winter  at  25  cents  a  gal- 
lon, and  so  was  the  no  fire  test  oil,  kept  by  unscrupu- 
lous dealers  in  contravention  of  the  spirit  if  not  of  the 
letter  of  the  law.  Pratt's  Astral  oil,  a  superior  brand  of 
Kerosene  manufactured  in  New  York,  could  be  had  at 
the  same  time  at  18  cents  a  gallon,  wholesale,  and  was 
quoted  in  the  markets  3  to  3  cents  higher  than  150  and 
8  to  9  cents  higher  than  no  fire  test  oil;  these  latter 
brands  sold,  therefore,  at  16  and  10  cents  a  gallon  re- 
spectively, making  with  an  addition  of  31^  cents  a  gallon 
freight  from  New  York  to  St.  Louis,  their  prices  in  the 
latter  city  191^  and  1314  cents  (n). 

The  difference  between  19^  and  25  or  53^  cents 
represents  the  legitimate  profit  on  each  gallon  of  150 
fire  test  oil,  to  be  divided  between  wholesale  and  retail 
dealer;  if  the  latter  now  sells  no  fire  test  oil  at  the  price 
of  the  former,  he  charges  6  cents  a  gallon  additional,  to 
which  he  has  no  right — a  fraud  which  he  is  enabled  to 
perpetrate  solely  in  consequence  of  a  miserable  law, 
already  two  years  in  existence,  aided  in  it  by  the  ignor- 
ance of  the  buyer,  who  fails  to  appreciate  the  difference 
between  a  superior  and  an  inferior  oil.  What  amount 
this  seemingly  little  sum  of  6  cents  a  gallon  grows  up  to 
in  the  course  of  a  year  is   realized  by   bearing  in   mind 


LECTURE  OP  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  25 

that  our  state  consumes  4,200,000  gallons  ot  oil,  on 
which  we  are  thus  unrighteously  taxed  252,000  dollars. 
The  objection  that  this  estimate  is  too  high  since  150  fire 
test  oil  is  sold  in  our  state,  can  hardly  be  considered  valid, 
for  out  of  thirteen  samples  sold  at  Columbia  one  only 
was  marked  1500  fire  test,  and  even  this  fell  36  degrees 
short,  and  Columbia  is  perhaps  no  worse  off  in  this  re- 
spect than  other  parts  of  the  State. 

"t™??nqP  If  we  adopt  then  1  io°  Fahrenheit  as  the 
lowest  temperature  at  which  an  oil  may  be  permitted  to 
emit  an  inflammable  vapor,  how  shall  we  go  about  to 
ascertain  the  fact?  Numerous  methods  have  been  pro- 
posed to  this  end,  but  without  entering  into  a  discussion 
of  them  or  their  principles,  I  will  merely  state,  that  the 
one  universally  adopted,  at  present,  is  based  on  an  exper- 
ment  in  which  a  direct  observation  is  taken  of  the  flash- 
ing point.  A  few  ounces  of  oil  are  gradually  heated  in 
a  simply  constructed  apparatus,  and  the  temperature  ob- 
served at  whieh  vapor  is  given  off  from  its  surface  in 
sufficient  quantity  to  produce,  on  the  approach  of  a  light- 
ed taper  or  gas  jet,  a  flash  or  flicker  of  light. 

The  experiments  to  give  uniform  results,  should  of 
course  be  made  in  a  uniform  manner;  and  the  law 
should  describe  the  manner  in  detail  for  the  guidance  of 
inspectors,  so  as  to  prevent  all  ambiguity  in  its  execution; 
a  failure  in  this,  as  experience  has  proven,  makes  the  law 
useless  and  the  officers  acting  under  it  liable  to  the 
charges  of  grave  irregularities.  In  making  a  test,  f. 
e.,  with  a  few  ounces  of  oil  within  10  or  15  minutes,  the 
lighter  portions  will  be  given  off  within  that  time,  and 
produce  a  flash  say  at  900  Fahrenheit;  in  repeating  the 
experiment  now,  but  with  this  difference,  that  the  oil 
is  heated  so  gradually  that  45  minutes  are  required  to 
bring  it  to  the  same  temperature  as  before,  the  lighter 


26  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

portions  are  given  off  much  slower,  and  may  not  pro- 
duce a  flash  at  all.  The  test  should  likewise  be  termed 
the  flashing  test  and  the  temperature  at  which  it  occurs 
the  flashing  point,  and  the  old  term  Jire  test,  still  used 
in  some  of  the  states,  avoided;  for  fire  test  may  mean 
either  the  flashing  test,  already  described,  or  the  con- 
tinuation of  the  test  until  the  oil  itself  takes  fire  and  con- 
tinues to  burn,  known  as  the  bur?zing  test y  and  in  the 
absence  of  a  clear  statement  by  law,  the  choice  between 
the  two  meanings  is  left  to  the  discretion  of  the  inspec- 
tors. There  is  no  necessary  connection  between  the  two 
tests,  whatever.  The  burning  test  may  be  high  and  the 
flashing  test  low;  but  if  the  flashing  test  is  high  the 
burning  test  must  of  necessity  be  high  also.  A  glance  at 
the  table  (12)  exhibits  sufficiently  the  judgment  of  other 
states  in  this  matter,  and  I  leave  it  to  this  audience  to 
decide  whether  the  intelligence  that  framed  the  laws 
of  England,  Indiana,  Ohio,  Michigan,  Massachusetts, 
Rhode  Island  and  New  York,  is  offset  by  the  intelli- 
gence of  Vermont,  Pennsylvania,  Maryland,  Illinois, 
Georgia,  Maine  and  Missouri. 

But  I  feel  I  have  kept  you  already  too  long  and 
must  hasten  to  a  conclusion.  I  am  aware  that  I  have 
omitted  from  this  discussion  many  points  that  deserved 
mention,  and  treated  others,  perhaps,  less  fully  than 
was  expected.  If  I  have  erred  in  this  direction  I  beg 
your  indulgence;  my  purpose  was  to  entertain  you  and 
to  convince  you  of  the  need  of  speedy  and  better  legis- 
tion  looking  to  the  protection  of  Coal  oil  consumers  in 
more  than  one  direction;  if  I  have  succeeded  in  this  my 
purpose  has  been  accomplished.  Should  any  one  of  you 
desire  to  know  more  of  the  details  of  the  subject,  I  am 
ready  cheerfully  to  furnish  them  as  far  as  they  are  in  my 
possession,  and  this  I  would  specially  wish  of  the   mem- 


LECTURE   OF   PROF.   SCHWEITZER.  27 

bers  of  the  legislature  that  may  be  present,  to  whom  I 
now  take  the  liberty  of  presenting  a  dratt  of  a  bill 
which  may  serve  as  a  guide  in  framing  a  new  Coal 
oil  law,  worthy  to  represent  Missouri  in  the  sister- 
hood of  states,  and  which  I  hope  and  trust  will  be  en- 
acted and  given  us  by  the  legislature  during  the  present 
session(i3). 


UXnVEBSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 


DIAGRAM,    TABLES     AND     STATEMENTS. 


The  reference  to  Table  No.  i  in  the  test  is  misplaced  and 
should  have  been  given  seven  lines  above  at  the  end  of  the  para- 
graph. 


LECTURE   OF   PROF.   SCHWEITZER. 

Graphic  Exhibition  of  some  of  the  tahles. 


29 


GaL 


"iCurve  of  Produyl.io..,uf,N»rlh  Amenai-g    |~  ri~|   V  f  |     |     ! 


O 


m 


30  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 


*       3  cj  3d        pc!  c:       d        d 


Cfl  CO 


3    M  fa 

3   SI  ^ 

n>  ST  M 

<T>           to           00  O                     *■£>    O               00-f>                 lJ    t>            ^             |                          '        ■  £J 

£L ^   —         —         —                — —  n 

S                                                                 H                                     H?  f- 

o-                                                                    s                                       c,    n  <*>  H 

r+                             ^                                    r!                                      a  ►A  ST  >» 

s  3  3  fa 

w.     m  h 

*       ^3  >. 

«  ?  3'  a  « 

h4  „      w    -  Pa  Zi 

3-'>Oqpy-ft±     fa     H-^     ^Ln     Dso     -     P  -3   n.  »  S 


o  -p*    3     : . .  T"    sn  J-"   3  vo         "  '^  cl  _ 


fa  * 

fa  W 


LECTURE   OF   PROF.    SCWEITZER. 


31 


2.  NUMBER   OF  PATENTS 

issued  in  the  United  States  on  oil  burners,  vapor  burners  and  ap- 
pliances to  lamps  in  general,  growing  out  of  the  introduction  and 
general  use  of  Petroleum  and  its  products,  collated  from  the  Re- 
ports of  the  U.  S.  Patent  Office(*). 


sro 
3  ^ 

p  < 

~  p 

0 

Value  of  lamps 
and  burners  ex- 

* cr 

"S  2 

p 

p 

ported. 

YEARS. 

c 

;  c 

n 

n 
en 

: 

In  t  r  oduced 
here  for  want 

£ 

'■    5 

of   a   better 

a. 

•  a. 

placed). 

1859(f)  -    -    -    - 

23 

12 

5 

40 

1S60 

3i 

32 

8 

7i 

1861    .... 

40 

5 

S 

53 

1862 

77 

3 

2  i 

101 

1S63    .... 

59 

•7 

88 

1S64 

7i 

4 

11 

86 

1S65    .... 

33 

3 

J7 

^ 

1866 

84 

/ 

M 

i35 

1S67    .... 

5- 

;  1 

ir 

103 

1868 

106 

2  5 

5  5 

1 86 

$  65,772 

1S69    .... 

59 

2  5 

5? 

r35 

167,883 

1870  ----- 

57 

39 

56 

15- 

168,008 

1871    ...    - 

65 

20 

/ 

131 

160,19s 

1872 

63 

11 

56 

no 

232,055 

1873    ...    - 

49 

7 

34 

90 

287,215 

1874 

36 

3 

5  2 

9i 

168,231 

1875    -    -    -    - 

83 

— 

7 1 

154 

207,721 

1876 

79 

— 

SS 

167 

188,838 

1877    .... 

78 

22 

79 

179 

243,373 

1878  ----- 

24 

4 

56 

S4 

245-377 

(*)  From  this  list  are  excluded  all  patents  relating  to  lanterns, 
signal  lights  and  burners  and  lamps  based  on  illuminating  material 
other  than  Petroleum  or  its  products. 

(+)  In  this  year  the  first  patent  was  issued  in  which  the  word 
Petroleum  occurs. 

(J)  An  estimation  of  the  capital  invested  in  the  manufacture  of 
lamps,  I  was  unable  to  obtain . 


32 


UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 


3.    STATISTICAL    TABLES      OF    PENNSYLVANIA    OIL 

WELLS(*). 


5'< 

~£ 

0  3 

5  H 

3"S5 

&y  *  > 

<— (  S 
S:  en 
3  01 

^  - 

p  *• 

0 

3  "" 
T3  3 

?3 

A   3 

n   < 

9?  -1 

c  c 

"i  •< 

fj  3 

c-  C 

'<  ""• 

3  rt 

P  3 

0 

"t  3 

O  3 

Q  — 

0  " 

YEARS. 

a 

•  3' 
:  ^ 

"  3" 

•  ^ 

3" 

•  crq 
■  0 

:  3 

!  P 

n  fD 
■  •t 

'   O 

P  ID 
3  ". 

Et  re 

3  y, 

O  3" 

p 

M  C 

P  P' 

§  & 

5'  S 

p  3* 

2  0 

Cl.  -», 

5" 

CO  p- 

*— •  3" 
g  S 

3  ft 

3  ot 

P  " 

3*0 

'-<  Dj 

fD  3 
P  O 

"t  c-t- 

»  2* 

3  3 

3-  ». 

.  ft 

•   3 

c 

;  ex. 

a 

2  £ 

3' 3 

•  ^ 

•  P 

n. 

0 

5  w 

0 

ap  a- 

;  p 

•  t-i 

'  c 

3 

•2  ST 

•  0. 

._ ,cr 

~t 

I  CD 

a 

^  3- 

•   3 

■j>  ST 

■   0 

M 

^ 

*~h 

>-  a 

■      -t 

3  " 

•  3 

w 

•  r. 

•  T3 

;  a 

;  O 

•  ha 

r1 

1  -1 

'.    CfQ 

!"*  m 

i860  - 

203 

IO 

1861 

200 

406 

403 

1206 

1862  - 

200 

609 

606 

3470 

1863    - 

35" 

S12 

959 

47 

47 

5-79 

3/64 

1864  - 

500 

1 01  5 

1459 

444 

397 

39-" 

2573 

186^ 

950 

1218 

2409 

1191 

747 

6i-33 

1737 

1866  - 

900 

1 42 1 

3309 

iSSS 

697 

49.05 

1758 

1867 

800 

1624 

4109 

-485 

597 

36.76 

2215 

1868  - 

Soo 

1S27 

4909 

3082 

597 

32.68 

1S32 

1869 

860 

2030 

5769 

3739 

657 

32-36 

1796 

1870  - 

991 

2233 

6760 

45-7 

7S8 

35-29 

18S7 

1871 

1007 

2436 

7/67 

533i 

S04 

33  00 

2159 

1872  - 

946 

2639 

8713 

6074 

743 

28.15 

1972 

1873    - 

1032 

2S42 

9745 

6903 

S29 

29.17 

2090 

1874  "    " 

53° 

304.S 

10275 

7230 

327 

10.74 

3248 

1875 

433 

3240 

10708 

74  6S 

23S 

7-34 

33SO 

1876  - 

600 

3t74 

1130S 

8i34 

666 

20.98 

2769 

1877 

t536 

536 

536 

None. 

2290 

6000 

13598 

7598 

(t) 

0.00 

1495 

187S  - 

536 

536 

ti 

3839 

845S 

17432 

S979 

1 381 

16.33 

1553 

1879 

536 

536 

<( 

2975 

J°337 

20412 

i 

0075 

1096 

10.60 

1467 

20739  55569 
536     536 

20203    55033  This  divided  by  20412  gives 

203 the  average  productive  time 

6  of  a  well  during  the  whole 

period  as  2.68  vears. 

20412 


LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER. 


38 


(*)  The  figures  in  the  first  and  second  column  up  to  1874  are 
taken  from  Special  Report  on  the  Petroleum  of  Pennsylvania  by 
Henrv  E.  Wrigley :  Second  Geological  Report  of  Pennsylvania, 
1874;  the  other  figures  in  the  same  columns  have  been  furnished 
by  Mr.  S.  H.  Stowell;  the  rest  were  calculated,  as  will  easily  be 
understood.  The  percentages  of  failures  were  derived  from  second 
and  fifth  columns;  I  call  attention  to  the  discrepencies  of  figures 
in  second  and  third  columns  for  1861  and  1862,  the  differences  of 
the  two  furnishing  the  number  six  added  to  the  sum  at  the  bottom 
of  first  column. 

({-)     536  old  wells  reopened  by  blasting. 

(f)     No  well  failed  in  this  year.     Are  the  figures  correct? 

4.    TABLE  SHOWING  THE  AVERAGE  YEARLY  PRICE  PER 

barrel  of  Crude  Oil  at  the  wells  and  of  Crude  and  Refined  Oil  at 
the  ports  of  export. 


K! 

Price  per  barrel 

K} 

Price  per  barrel 

S3 

atwells.l     in  export. 

ft) 

at  wells,  j     in  export.     |    (■{•) 

■"» 

Crude  1  Crude  1  Refined. 

T 

Crude 

.ICrude.lRefined.l 

1859 

$20.00 

1869 

$5.48 

$10. 12 

$13  73 

$3.61 

i860 

9.60 

1870 

3 

74 

8 

69 

12 

Sr 

4. 12 

1 861 

0.49 

1871 

4 

50 

8 

40 

IO 

79 

2-39 

1862 

1. 05 

$11 .09 

1872 

3 

84 

7 

H 

IO 

46 

3-32 

1863I      3.15 

7 

S2 

1873 

1 

84 

6 

8s 

9 

87 

3.02 

1864       7.62 

16 

2  5 

$22     ->2 

$5-97 

1874 

1 

-<) 

4 

96 

7 

27 

2.31 

i86d     6.1S 

23 

48 

3* 

25 

7-77 

1S75 

1 

»a 

4 

03 

S 

92 

i.8q 

1866      3.78 

15 

7^ 

24 

23 

8.48 

1876 

2 

73 

4 

54 

5 

88 

2.98 

1867       2.54 

10 

07 

15 

08 

4.41 

1877 

2 

4S 

5 

88 

8 

86 

i868|      3. ot; 

6 

47 

12 

35 

5.88 

1878 

1 

37 

4 

20 

6 

OS 

.  1-85 

(f)  Difference  between  the  two  preceding  columns,  represent- 
ing cost  of  refining.  The  irregularities  in  the  prices  are  very 
likely  the  result  of  speculation. 

5.     PRODUCTION  OF  CRUDE  PETROLEUM  IN  THE  UNITED 
STATES  AND  CANADA  FROM  1359  TO  ]87S  INCLUSIVE. 
Pittsburgh,  Pa.,  June  4th,  1S79. 
P.    Schxueitzer,   Esq.,    State    University   of  Missouri ' 
Columbia,  Mo. : 

Dear  Sir:  Your  favor  of  the  26th  ult.  was  duly  received 
and  its  contents  noted.  Enclosed  herewith  I  hand  you  a  detailed 
statement  of  Petroleum  production  in  the  United   States  and  Can- 


34 


UNIVERSITY    OP    MISSOURI. 


ad  a  from  1859  to  1S78  inclusive,  made  up  from  data  which   T  have 
been  able  to  collect  for  the  last  7  years. 

The  early  years  of  Petroleum  production  were  without  system 
and  without  a  market,  consequently  there  was  no  regular  account 
kept  of  the  production  and  cannot  be  given  by  any  person  except 
as  an  approximation ;  the  same  may  be  said  of  the  production  ac- 
count outside  of  the  Pennsylvania  oil  fields.  Since  any  record  has 
been  preserved  I  have  in  my  office  quite  a  complete  chain.  So  I 
present  results  therefrom  having  confidence  in  their  general  cor- 
rectness. Since  I  have  been  publishing  the  "Reporter"  I  have 
had  every  facility  for  making  accurate  reports  and  have  the  data 
on  file  in  my  office  to  verify  all  figures  contained  in  the  reports. 
Respectfully,  S.  11.  Stowell, 

Editor  "Stowell's  Petroleum  Reporter." 
These  figures  refer  to  calendar  years  beginning  with  the  first 
of  Januarv,  while  those  given  by  the  Chief  of  the  Bureau  of  Statis- 
tics refer  to  fiscal  years  beginning  with  July  1  and  ending  June  30. 
In  constructing  the  curve  of  production  for  the  rest  of  the  United 
States  excepting  Pennsylvania,  the  totals  given  in  the  different 
columns  up  to  1S75  and  '76  were  distributed  evenly  over  the  pre- 
ceding sixteen  and  seventeen  years;  but  the  production  of  Cana- 
da up  to  the  year  1S62  was  added  during  that  year.  It  was  intend- 
ed to  present  merely  the  difference  between  this  curve  and  that  of 
Pennsylvania. 

RECAPITULATION. 
Penn.  Total  production.  .111,007,862  bbls.         Value.  .  $293,872,162 
W.  Va.    "  "  .  .     3,542,000     " 

Ohio         "  "  411,500     •' 

Ky.  &  Tenn.        "  .  .         398,000     " 

California  "  .  .         355,000     " 


(*)  " 


12,472,225 


Total  production  in  U.  S.  115,714,362 
Canada  total  production.  .     3,596,945 


Total .  .  $306,344,387 
(*)     Value       9,531,904 


Total  in  U.S.&  Canada.  .119,311,307 


Total.  .$315,876,291 


(*)     These  figures  were  obtained  by  taking     £2.65   as   the  price 
per  barrel  of  oil. 


IjKCTURE    OF    PROF.    SCWEITZER. 


36 


CO  CO  CO  CO  CO  CO  CO  00  CO  CO  00  CO  GO  CO  (X  CO  00  M  00  oc 
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-  to  'u  b  co 


36 


UNIVERSITY    OF    ailSSOUKI 


i,    O 

a! 

00     .5 

s  -a 


H 


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3 

m   N^ltfOO    "3-  N  O    ON  ri    C    «    ri    pi 
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re" 
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re 
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On  *}- 1-  nnO    OO    C\  f)  3N  "".  +  reco    i"i 
mOO    +  >p  r<    C  NO    »PAC    ""•.  —r  ON  pni    mvO 
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rooo    N  r  1    -,    t >.  - ,    Q    Ov   -r-  re  xr.  si     —  — 

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4  -1  •■''.  noo  6\.d>  -  ^«ono 

Pr'c 
per 
gal. 

On  ■*■  N  ON  "=r  N  **!  J—  O  >•'.  "~  n   C    —    ~r 

pj  4- n  i>;  cn  4  c  "■.  4-  re  i >.  4-  4-  4  4- 
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re 
►> 

n   ON  «  no   O   pi    O  NO  CO   lou-. -CO   -inO 
n  CO    "*-vO    t--  ^t-  f<   mo    re  ip.nO    rOMN 

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t-  lo-o    u~,  OsnC    O    —   w-j  w    u-.  0   t~-  ■*" "~. 

no"  0\CO   pT  CJn  1-^.  d"  4-  C"  »4  t-C  r^-c/f  li".  " 

m    p)   hi   n   po  PO  PO  PO  po  P)   ri   lo  -r 

Pr'c:      Mineral 
per  1         Oil. 
gal.  1     Refined. 

CO    LO  n    J^  n    M    r^  u-j  lt.  rf  -t-  re  <■■-,   —  ^ 
n     N     <N     W-;NO     CJ\  IP,  IT)  N  «     O     fOr"T* 

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4  41  u%o"  :>  re  d"oo*  c5>  pJ  c"  -"  —  -"  -1- 
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t^  1^  P)  NO    O.  -r  rONO    >r,  r-.    pj   Lrjcq^  rf  r»_ 
c)    pf  -1   r4"  r^.  4-00   pf  Pi'co"  t>  4   4  4  On 

«   d   re'O  no  CO   Cn  rO  rj    i/~,  -■   on  O  nC  CO 

1-    n     n    P<     «    D    PI    Pi 

-*-C\t>-0\LO   ^-r^-H.     *»  0     O     P^CO  NO  CO     O     O 

0  t4co  ip,  tC.  iP;  10  4  0  d  t--NO  4  o\  0  4-  d 

p)MPOLr)POrj>ir<r4r4Miiii          —    n    « 

1^-  On  t^  ro  «    —    ro  ^r  lo  i—  «    O  NO  CO  CO    ONCO 
r<    POOO   «   ri    Q   po  O   10  +  M   w-,  on  «  no    n    ►-• 
0.0O.  >-_  lq  On  O    On  t*-  w_cO    h    Q.nO_^  O.  ri.  i-^-  O. 

cn  t^  4-c<r  to  4-no"  4-  0  4"  t^  0"  onncT  c~no~  4 
re  p<  no  no  ii  no  ■*■  on'o  no  h  oo  fi  "i* 

lo       CC^CO   O.CO.  l-.OO    On  re  O.  0_  •&■  PJ^  WO 
n         pOno"nO    ii"  ii"  rf  rT  i-T  r?  re  pT  ti~  rr  re  P4 

j    Mineral 

YEARS.                                     Oil. 

Crude. 

Cn  •*•  >*■  t~~  reco   On  O  no  CO  CO  r-»  On  -f- 1^  r>   t^ 
^i   t^.  ip)  On  •+  ^t-  ip.nC  NO   rONO    O    n    n    On  O   p< 
m  CO_  NO^CO_  C;  ri  NO^  re  O.  0   N  -t-  •*  n_  re  r>_  t^ 
70   LeorT  PO  tC  4-  On  ip.  lo  cK  On  Cnno"co"  cT  C\nO  j 
ri   >pj  o   On  ipj  -*t-  pi   p."   to  >p.  infONM   p)    i.   re 
j0    «    C»  PJ.  O,  PO  0_  ^  C.CO_  ip,  •+  !>.  !>.  loco^  Cn 
lo        C\  ci  no"  N  cT  pT  Cn  CJn  reed"  N  4-  0"no"no" 

W     H               11      -<                        M     H     H     H     f(     n     fl 

»»    eo                                        to 

N  «  +  >-ono  r-co   CN  O   -   n   pe  -*-  i-ONO  nco 
OnOnOOnOnOnOnO   »>•  r^.  t-~  t-~  r—  t^.  t^  t—  t-- 

">0COCOCOCOCO00COCOCOCOCOCOCO'yDGOCO 

i  °    X"00 


ir 


3-0      r, 

0.CO.  O 
On  N  4" 


o  -^-i 

re  pi    tJ- 

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Nh*  O" 
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re  -^-  ip, 

co  co  co 

re  re  On 
O  >•'. 
re  O    ii 

d\  nno" 
reco  re 
"P,  1^  t^ 

CnCO"cO 


0   «   P< 
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NO 

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5  q.  lo 

pr  lo  4- 

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re  4-n 


NCO    Cn 

'O   NO'   NO 

CO  CO  CO 


NO"l 
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.o  co  co 


LECTURE    OF    PHOF.    SCHWEITZER. 


37 


8 


GO  GO  CC  CO  00  GO  CO  ,O0COv£'  COGOvoOGOCOCOOC 
•~j  ^j  -J  ^J  --J  --J  ---I  -"<l  "O  C.  Ov  ON  O  C\  Ov  Cv  Ov 
M  M    O  VO    00"»*    &£n-&   00    u 


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w"  o  Oo    OOP    Qv-l    O 
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•^i  ^  'j\-<t ' 


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to  VO    >o   O  4-  vo  -I  CO      4-  4- 
CO  CC-l-    Ov 


COO  P^1  VO 

~c\oo  ii)M 

CO  i-"    N    >o  -J— 

71    u    h    CO  0\ 


e 

M  OO  OO     H     «     n 
C-,    h    h  vC     004-  '14-     « 

vb  "o  Oo  "kj   Mlnn-^vtvj  oo 
vO   coon  O   O  VO    ON  iv  ~-i  ~n  ^j 
00^1  Oi    ONOo  VO    OV-£>    0    CO-I- 

M4- O^  -^j  -i- 

Oo  bob)  "bv'co 
VO   Q   m   OV--I 
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ON                                M                   CO'Jl 
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vC  vb  on   CO  CO  io  oi         0  "<r 

«           10    I-j    10 
io    CN4-  Oo  On 
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Pr'c 
per 
gal. 

W  bJ  M  U  b  m  h 
Go  0+  >J  4-  C04- 
_COVO  Oo   w  ^<t  ^-l  'ji 

to  to""  "b\vb  ■*»  "c/i'<- 

■$*  4>  VC    Ov'vn   00  i  -or 
1X00  VO  "**  Go  4-    n  On 

K)Oh'jiOCoo:co 
MOj-i*    io    cogo  — j  Go 


4-  ii  VO  'I  --'  4-  i-  <* 
p  Go  vp  vo  O  vp  o<  Go 
OV-J  'Ji  i  W  O  4-  i 
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^  pljv  Oi  Gn  4-  Vi  OD 
vb  "ov">h  '3n  -^  To  4-  ~~ 
Oj  CV-on  ^J  vo  Cvvo  — 
0    30MWOJ    u-ivi 


2.  S-  c 


a   2   t. 


2.Hq 

Fes 


00^3  Vi  vr  '^  4-  oo 

O  00    COb    CC4-  -i- 

CT\  Ov  0    COVO  ^oj  '-n 

'-a  >^n   h4ho   "  _0> 

vb  "ovC04-  bvbw  i- 

O  r-"  ^l  Oo  --a  ^j  vo    Os 

-<    O  VO    '-    0    CO  0    Ov 


00  ]J    N    m    —  w 
jn  M  W    75  b  "    0~'vi  — 

ON  O    OvvO  '1  O-.  O  c^i        Oo 

Oo  ^oj  p  Jj  Oj  ^i  ^oj    —  oo   OC 

be  "cob  -1  4-  Q  O   "  --i  ^1 

GO  io  vO  'J.  -0J  Q  toJ  4»    -    O 

m   o\\o   i   O  OS  C>  0   "j-ri 


4^  OOo  Oo  4>  4-  Oo 
O  i  io  O  "  jJ-J- 
m  Cn  —T  i)  O  u  O  O 
'-n  —-1  CO  ^  "M  4^  '-n  '-n 
'-n  4i-  vC  v>  CC'^  O  po 
vb  vb  i-  -I  on  br~I  Co 
vo  -J  Oo  CO  C\  —  v\  vO 
OO*-    00  O  CC''on    CN  0 


P>  0 

Cobvb)  bo4-  coCn  CO 
vo  OS-J  4-  +.  vo  ceo 
vO  CTv  i  O  io  'vv  pv-oj 
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00  i    C*\  h    w  VO    «    0 


C 

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38 


UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 


(These  notes  refer  to  the  tables  on  the  two  preceding  pages.) 
i.     Compiled  from  the    "Annual  Report   of  the   Chief  of  the 

Bureau  of  Statistics  on    Commerce   and  Navigation. — Domestic 

Products." 

2.  Petroleum,  crude  and  refined :  This  statement  was  not  fully 
reported  in  the  Collector's  returns,  Petroleum  not  then  being 
among  enumerated  articles. — "Report."' 

3.  The  quantities  and  values  of  Petroleum  exported  were  not 
reported  in  the  Schedules  of  enumerated  articles.  The  quantities 
and  values  here  entered  are  derived  from  special  enquiries  and 
are  below  rather  than  above  the  actual  exports.— "Report." 

4.  The  figures  of  this  column  to  1S71  inclusive  and  the  figures 
marked  4  for  187S  give  gallons  of  solid  Paraffin  taken  to  weigh 
seven  pounds  each. 

5.  The  figures  of  this  column  up  to  1871  inclusive  comprise  a 
portion  of  Coal  Oil  reported  by  the  Collector  as  follows: 


1864. 
186  v 
1866. 
1867. 
1 868. 
1869. 
1870. 
1871. 


1,144,769  gallons. I  $676,444 


1,019,251 
746,044 
561,096 

687>574 
954»529 
4418:248 

398,22. 


821,088 

456,955 
242,283 
225,727 
339.5" 
177^37 
151,044 


59.0  cents  pei 

80. 5  " 
61.2  " 
+3-2  " 
32.8  " 

35.6  " 
39-5  " 
37-9  " 


gallon. 


6.  This  figure  includes  coal  oil  521,053  gallons  worth  $187,866 
or  36.1  cents  per  gallon. 

7.  The  figures  in  this  column  are  given  in  the  schedules 
to  1869  inclusive  as  Benzine;  in  1870  Benzine  and  Naphtha 
are  given  separately,  and  in  187 1  and  following  the}-  include  Gas- 
oline, Naphtha  and  Benzine. 

8.  The  figures  in  this  column  indicate  Residuum,  Tar,  Pitch, 
etc.;  they  are  given  in  the  "Reports"  in  barrels,  which  I  changed 
into  gallons  by  assuming  the  barrels  to  hold  42  gallons,  and  mak- 
ing the  multiplication. 

8a.  Is  the  value  of  Residuum,  Tar,  Pitch,  etc.,  the  quantity  of 
which  is  not  stated. 

9.  These  figures  « ere  obtained  by  dividing  the  number  of 
gallon  3  bv  4.2. 


LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER. 


39 


P 


n 


n 


o 

2, 

3 

Warren 
Warren 
Warren 

www     a 

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3  ^T  n  ~  3  ■    3  ^-^  a 


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C\^r  K>  00  0  0\^o  Cno, 


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n»5 


40 


UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 


IMPURITIES    NOT    YET    ISOLATED. 

3.     Those  possessing  in  their  composition  Sulphur. 

2.  Those  which  give  rise  to  the  color  of  Petroleum. 

3.  Those  possessing  the  disagreeable  and  specific  ordor  of 
American  Petroleum. 

In  this  list  Thallen,  discovered  by  Prof.  Morton  is  not  men- 
tioned, because  it  is  probably  only  an  educt  of  the  distillation  of 
Petroleum  at  high  temperatures  and  not  a  product  occurring  in  it 
naturally,  and  further  because  L.  Prunier  and  R.  David,  Comptes 
rendu6  87,  pgs.  991-93,  state  that  Petrocen,  Carbocen,  Carbopetro- 
cen  and  Thallen  are  only  mixtures  with  from  88  to  96  per  cent,  of 
Carbon. 


8.    PRODUCTS  OF  FRACTIONAL  DISTILLATION. 


A(*) 

B(*) 

C(t) 

Gasolene 

1.5  per  cent.  1 

3.0  pe 

Naphtha 

10.0         "         > 

20.0  per  cent. 

1 0.0 

Benzine 

4.0         "        J 

3-o 

Kerosene    - 

55-o 

66.0 

75-o 

Lubricating  oil  -   - 

i7-5 

Paraffin 

2.0        " 

Loss,  Gas,  Coke  - 

10.0        " 

14.0         " 

9.0 

|IOO.O 


1 1 00.0 


(*)  These  three  tables  are  taken  from  C.  F.  Chandler's  "Re- 
port on  Petroleum,"  1871. 

(f)  This  table  is  taken  from  H.  B.  Cornwall,  "Petroleum,* 
1876. 


LECTURE  OF  PROF,  SCHWEITZER. 


41 


to        i_o  Oo         0\  Cv        (J\  Q\ 

<-ri   rt  CO  CO  „.  O    O    ,,'Jitr 

°o     °    °  O     °    °  O     °    ° 

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48  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

9.    STATEMENT  AND  TABLE  IN  RELATION  TO  QUALITY 
OF  OIL. 

Some  light  is  thrown  on  this  point  by  the  following  conside- 
rations. In  the  last  report  of  the  Chief  of  the  Bureau  of  Statistics, 
Commerce  and  Navigation,  the  following  figures  are  given  for  the 
fiscal  year : 

1878 — 619,007,044  gallons  petroleum,  total  product  in  the  U .  S. 
289,214,541  gallons  refined  oil  exported. 
26,936,727  gallons  crude  oil  exported. 
Now  supposing  66  per  cent,  to  be  the  highest  amount  of  Ker- 
osene  of  the    proper   quality  obtainable,  the  refined    oil  exported 
would  be  equivalent  to 

^33,?j  [,8i  1  gallons 
26,936,727  gallons 

460,758,53s  gallons  exported. 

158,248,466  gallons  left  for  home  consumption- 

619,007,004  gallons. 


1877 — 454,560,582  gallons  petroleum,  total  product  in  the  U.  S. 
262,441, 84.4  gallons  refined  oil  exported. 
26,819,202  gallons  crude  oil  exported. 

In  the  same  way  as  before  we  have  the  refined  oil  equivalent 
*°         393>662>766  gallons 
26,819,202  gallons 


420,078,614  gallons  exported. 
34,078,614  gallons  left  for  home  consumption. 

454,560,582  gallons. 

The  amount  remaining  in  our  own  markets,  is  sufficient  for, 
1878  to  cover  home  consumption,  but  fell  far  short  in  1877,  unless 
indeed  we  suppose  a  production  of  76  per  cent,  of  Kerosene ;  in, 
that  case  the  refined  oil  exported  would  be  equivalent  to 

374-3lS>-l6gallons 
26,819,202  gallons 

372,137,418  gallons  exported. 
82,423,164  gallons  left  for  home  consumption. 


454,560,582  gallons. 


LECTURE  OF  PKO)'.  SCHWEITZER.  43 

This  calculation  gives  for  1878  the  equivalent  of 
crude  oil  exported  as  407,491,273  gallons,  while  Mr. 
Thompson  McGowan  of  Cleveland ,  Ohio,  fixes  it  at 
407,482,175  gallons.  That  this  oil  however  is  inferior  is 
proved  by  my  own  experience  in  Missouri  and  by  the 
following  statement  taken  from  StcwelVs  Petroleum  Re- 
porter of  May  15,  1879: 

DETERIORATION  OF  REFINED  OILS. 

Considerable  and  general  complaint  has  for  the  past 
six  months,  from  time  to  time,  been  coming  to  us  from 
the  petroleum  points  of  Europe,  touching  fhe  condition 
of  the  last  year's  export. 

These  complaints  found  decided  expression  at  a 
meeting  of  the  different  chambers  of  commerce,  held  at 
Bremen  on  the  25th  of  February  last.  At  this  congress 
it  was  plainly  charged,  that  the  recent  imports  of  petro- 
leum, especially  the  various  brands  of  the  Standard  Oil 
Company,  were  of  a  marked  inferior  quality,  that  the  in- 
feriority consisted  in  the  color,  the  fire  test  and  the  con- 
dition of  the  packages.  Beside  this  expression  from 
Germany,  the  Petroleum  Association  of  London  having 
in  February  last  caused  an  analysis  of  quantities  of  im- 
ported petroleum  found  some  of  the  Standard  Oil  Com- 
pany's brands  exceedingly  deficient,  as  for  instance:  the 
brand  known  as  the  Royal  Daylight — that  this  brand 
out  of  15,373  bbls.  they  took  390  bbls.  for  test  by  analy- 
sis and  found  34^2  Per  cent,  flashing  at  ioo°;  as  to  color 
and  merchantable  qualities  they  further  found  only  91 
percent,  of  the  samples  to  be  pure  white,  while  21  t  bbls. 
were  Standard  white,  6^  good  merchantable  and  7  bbls. 
not  good  merchantable  As  well  they  may,  these  com- 
plaints seem  to  have  awakened  the  attention  of  the  trade 
in  this  country. 

The  Produce  Exchange  of  New  York  promptly 
took  the  subject  up  and  the  result  has  been  the  appoint- 
ment of  a  committee  "to  consider  the  recommendations 
of  the  Bremen  Congress,  and  any  suggestions  that  may 
be  made  by  those  interested  in  the  trade,  looking  to  a 
practical   remedy   of  the   existing   cause   of  complaint." 


44 


UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 


And  we  are  told  that  daily  sessions  will  be  held  until  the 
duties  of  the  committee  shall  be  satisfactorily  discharged. 
Touching  the  cause  of  the  complaints  of  the  inferi- 
ority, we  have  no  doubt  that  it  is  in  part  due  to  the  char- 
acter of  the  oil  obtained  from  the  Bradford  field;  but  at 
the  same  time  we  are  constrained  to  believe  that  it  may 
in  part  be  due  to  the  manufacture  of  special  brands  of 
high  grade  oil,  which  commands  specially  high  prices; 
while  the  common  standards  are  deteriorated. 


10.     KEROSENE  OIL  SOLD  IN  COLUMBIA  (MO.),  AND  MAT- 
TERS  RELATING  TO  COAL  OIL  INSPECTION. 


1S75 


1S77 


1879 


Number. 


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«  a 

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Cd 

^ 

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I 

2  - 

3  - 

4  - 

5  - 

6  - 

7  - 

8  - 

9 

10  - 
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12  - 

Average 

*3  - 

14        . 


106 

37 

88 

SS 
88 
88 


91 
'39 


88 

100 

no 

86 

93 

80 

82 

88 

82 

79 

88 

— 

— 

— 

77 

— 

— 

77 

1 
75 

84 

— 

81 

82 

— 

81 

SS 

76 

... 

— 

77 

82 

s9 

83 

,  J49 

171 

— 

140 

114 

88 
88 


79 
So 


80 

82 

150 


These  oils  were  tested  during  January  or  February 
of  each  year,  and  were  taken  from  barrels  stamped  by 
the  St.  Louis  Coal  Oil  Inspector  as  having  no"  F.  fire 
test,  except  Nos.  13,  14  and  No.  1,  1879,  which  were 
stamped,  the  two  former  as  having  175"  F.  and  the  latter 
1500  F.  fire  test.  A  complaint  on  the  part  of  the  retail 
dealer  here  to  the  wholesale  merchant  drew  forth  the 
following  reply : 

St.  Louis,  Mo.,  February  2nd,   1877. 
*  *  *     ''If  your  University  Chemist  would  attend  to  some- 
thing he  knows  about,  it  would  be  more  creditable  fo   him.     AM 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.   SCHWEITZER.  45 

the  oil  v\e  send  you  will  stand  no  degrees  te&t  by  any  fair  in- 
spection. Our  University  Chemist  here  attempted  the  same- 
thing:  but  when  he  learned  to  test  oii  practically  he  was  we 
think  convinced,  that  theory  was  one  thing  and  practice  another." 

I  suppress  the  names  of  the  parties  from  motives  of 
charity,  but  suggest  that  the  note  be  read  in  the  light  of 
the  numerous  accidents  and  horrors  from  Coal  Oil  that 
have  occurred  almost  daily  in  various  parts  o?  our  state 
and  have  been  published  in  the  St.  Louis  papers.  These 
parties  and  others  that  might  be  named,  evidently  think 
that  the  testing  of  oils  must  be  learned  by  the  Chemist 
or  man  of  Science  from  the  Inspector,  whose  claim  to 
the  position,  as  usually  filled,  is  of  a  political  or  similar 
character.  I  call  in  this  connection  attention  to  the  fol- 
lowing statement,  which  appeared  in  the  St.  Louis  Re- 
publican of  February  5th,  1879: 

[From  the  Missouri  Republican,  Feb.  5,  1879.J 
The  grand-jury  sat  late  on  Monday  evening.  They 
were  anxious  to  prevent  a  caucus  on  the  part  of  certain 
parties,  who,  they  had  been  led  to  believe  were  interest- 
ed in  covering  up  some  crookedness  connected  with  the 
gauging,  inspection  and  stamping  of  coal  oil  in  this  city. 
They  thought  they  were  in  a  fair  way  to  obtain  convict- 
ing evidence,  provided  the  parties  under  investigation  did 
not  succeed  in  getting  together  and  agreeing  on  some 
plan  for  mutual  protection.  With  a  view  to  preventing 
that  occurrence,  they  had  a  number  of  men  employed  in 
watching  the  oil-works,  the  coal  oil  inspector's  office  and 
such  other  places  as  a  caucus  was  likely  to  be  held.  Yet, 
in  spite  of  all  these  precautions,  the  officers  were  eluded, 
and  in  a  little  room  at  the  Laclede  hotel  the  meeting 
was  held.  It  did  not  last  long,  but  it  probably  sufficed 
to  effect  arrangements  to  tide  over  the  present  crisis. 

The  grand-jury,  although  not  aware  of  the  caucus, 
had  learned  that  Hon.  Hairison  Attaway,  coal  oil  in- 
spector for  St.  Louis,  had  been  summoned  here  from 
his  home  at  Lebanon,  Mo.,  by  a  telegram  sent  by  his 
deputy,  Mr.  Cliff  Able.     They  had  also  learned  that  Mr. 


46  UNIVERSITY    OF    MI8SOURI. 

Attaway  would  very  probably  start  on  the  9:45  train  for 
Jefferson  City.  *  *  *  Shortly  before  train  time  Mr. 
Attaway,  in  a  serious  mood,  arrived.  He  was  about  to 
secure  his  seat  when  the  detectives  approached  him  and 
told  him  that  he  was  wanted.  He  demanded  their  au- 
thority and  they  said  they  had  the  authority  of  the  grand- 
jury.  After  some  parley,  he  went  with  them  to  the 
Four  Courts. 

Meanwhile  officers    were  industriously  endeavoring 
to  ascertain  the  whereabouts  of  Mr.  Cliff  Able,  Mr.  At 
taway's  deputy,  with  a  view  to  arresting   him.     Their 
efforts,  however,  were  futile. 

Yesterday  forenoon  Mr.  Attaway  and  Mr.  Able 
were  at  the  Four  Courts.  The  former  went  before  the 
grand-jury,  and  was  examined  there  for  a  couple  of 
hours.  The  result  of  his  examination  was  that  a  num- 
ber of  record  books  were  brought  from  the  inspector's 
office  and  taken  charge  of  by  the  jury-  The  jury  then 
proceeded  to  the  criminal  court  and  made  report,  the 
substance  of  which  was  not  made  known  to  the  public. 
Bench  warrants  had  been  made  out.  and  Messrs.  Atta- 
way and  Able  were  notified  that  they  would  be  required 
to  give  bond  of  $1,000  each.  The  former  simply  re- 
newed his  bond  with  Dr.  Nidelet  as  security,  to  answer 
to  any  indictment  that  might  be  brought  against  him, 
and  the  latter  gave  bond,  with  Mr.  J.  J.  Daly  as  security, 
to  answer  before  the  court  to-morrow  morning  to  the 
charge  of  contempt,  the  grounds  of  which  charge  will 
more  fully  appear  hereafter. 

As  both  the  gentlemen  professed  to  be  utterly  ignor- 
ant as  to  the  nature  of  the  prosecution  to  which  they  are 
to  be  subjected,  and  as  the  members  of  the  grand-jury 
are  pledged  to  secrecy  in  regard  to  all  matters  before 
them  it  is  not  practicable  to  state,  with  such  a  fullness 
and  clearness  as  would  be  desirable,  what  are  the 
charges  and  the  facts  on  which  they  are  based.  Still,  a 
pretty  fair  outline  ot  the  matter  can  be  stated,  as  gleaned 
from  a  dozen  different  sources. 

For  many  months  there  has  been  a  general  com- 
plaint among  merchants  who  have  the  handling  of  coal 
oil  in  this  city  that  the  contents  of  the  barrels  purchased 


LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER,  47 

by  them  were  from  one  to  three  gallons — and  sometimes 
as  much  as  four  gallons  short  of  the  quantity  stamped  on 
the  head,  ostensibly  by  the  inspector.  As  their  bills 
were  all  made  out  according  to  the  stamps  on  the  bar- 
rels, this  was  a  matter  seriously  affecting  margins.  For 
a  long  time  the  discrepancy  was  explained  away  on  the 
theory  of  evaporation,  but  the  shortage  became  so  great 
that  dealers  began  to  grow  skeptical  as  to  this  theory. 
Then  they  got  to  comparing  notes,  and  they  were  as- 
tounded to  find  how  uniform  was  the  cause  for  complaint. 

Moreover  the  retailers  found— and  the  record  of 
coal-oil  accidents  went  to  sustain  them — that  the  oil  was 
very  frequently  not  of  the  proof  which  the  law  re- 
quires; that  instead  of  standing  the  degree  of  heat  spec- 
ified by  statute  as  a  minimum,  it  would  ignite  much  be- 
low it.  Gradually  this  grievance  was  made  known  to 
the  wholesale  men,  who,  in  turn,  associated  it  with  the 
shortage  phenomenon.  In  order  that  the  general  read- 
er, who  may  not  be  posted  as  to  the  system  of  handling 
oil  here,  may  understand  the  situation,  a  slight  digres- 
sion from  the  main  story  is  here  necessary. 

In  order  to  regulate  the  sale  of  this  inflammable 
and  popular  commodity,  there  is  a  statute  providing  for 
a  coal-oil  inspector  in  St.  Louis,  another  in  Kansas  City, 
another  in  Hannibal  and  another  in  St.  Joseph.  These 
men  are  paid  by  commissions,  being  allowed  a  specified 
amount  for  every  barrel  of  oil  inspected.  All  the  crude 
oil  coming  to  St.  Louis  is  brought  here  by  the  firm  of 
Waters,  Pierce,  &  Co.,  whose  refining  establishments 
are  at  the  edge  of  the  Union  depot  yards,  one  at  Four- 
teenth street  and  the  other  at  Tayon  avenue.  They  put 
the  oil  through  a  refining  process,  and  it  must  be  brought 
to  a  certain  grade — susceptible  of  a  certain  fire  test — be- 
fore it  can  be  placed  upon  the  market.  Moreover,every 
barrel  must  be  gauged  and  stamped  by  the  inspector  or- 
his  deputy. 

From  the  complaints  of  the  merchants  as  to  short- 
age and  inferior  oil,  the  grand-jury  became  satisfied  that 
there  was  fraud  somewhere.  After  taking  a  considera- 
ble amount  of  testimony  showing  that  fact,  they  sent  for 
Mr.  Able,   Mr.   Attaway   being   absent   from    the   city. 


48  UNIVERSITY    OP    MISSOURI. 

They  learned  that,  instead  of  going  to  the  works  and  in- 
specting the  oil  themselves,  these  gentlemen  were  in  the 
habit  ot  allowing  the  employes  of  the  refining  company 
to  mark  the  grade  and  contents  on  the  barrels  and  that 
this  had  been  done  for  weeks  at  a  time.  Of  course  if 
inferior  oil  was  put  upon  the  market  as  of  a  high  grade, 
there  was  a  profit  to  somebody.  And,  of  course,  again, 
if  thirty-six  gallons  were  sold  as  forty,  there  was  more 
profit  to  somebody.  These  two  profits  on  each  barrel  of 
oil  must  represent  vast  sums  in  the  course  of  a  month's 
business  in  such  a  city  as  this,  but  it  is  not  impossible 
that  the  circumstances  have  been  misinterpreted,  and 
that  what  appears  to  be  fraud  may  have  some  fair  expla- 
nation. Or,  even  if  there  are  great  frauds  in  the  busi- 
ness, it  is  not  impossible  that  the  gentlemen  under  arrest 
and  the  refining  firm  are  ignorant  of  them,  while  the 
employes  are  getting  the  benefit.  All  of  this  remains 
to  be  determined  by  investigation. 

However  all  that  may  be,  Mr.  Able,  when  before 
the  jury,  agreed  to  exhibit  to  that  body  the  books  of  the 
office.  When  he  got  outside  the  jury-room,  however,  he 
manifested  a  disposition  to  disregard  his  agreement.  A 
subpoena  was  sent  after  him,  and  he  disregarded  it.  A 
subpoena  duces  tecum  was  sent  and  he  ran  from  the 
office.  An  attachment  was  sent  and  he  was  nowhere  to 
be  found.  The  jury,  under  the  fear  that  the  books  would 
be  rewritten  if  sufficient  time  was  allowed,  made  strene- 
ous  endeavors  to  get  possession  of  the  books  Monday 
night,  but  failed.  Those  which  were  produced  yester- 
day morning  were  examined,  and  a  gentleman,,  who  saw 
them  in  the  jury-room,  declared  that  they  all  had  the 
appearance  of  having  been  written  but  a  few  hours  be- 
fore, the  ink  being  quite  fresh.  This  view,  however, 
may  be  explained  by  a  too  suspicious  mind. 

When  the  jury  learned  that  Mr.  Able  had  con- 
sulted able  counsel  before  and  after  entering  the  jury 
room ;  when  they  learned  that  telegrams  had  been  sent 
Mr.  Attaway;  when  the)'  learned  that  the  caucus  re- 
ferred to  in  the  beginning  of  this  article  had  been  held 
in  spite  of  their  endeavors,  they  were  very  indignant, 
.and  it  seems  quite  certain  that  there  will  be  serious  pun- 


LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  49 

ishment    for    contempt.     Two    indictments    have    been 
found. 

The  legitimate  fees  of  the  office,  as  shown  by  the 
investigation,  amount  to  $9,000  in  a  year,  and  this  is  to 
be  divided  between  only  the  inspector  and  the  deputy, 

I  also  call  attention  to  a  statement  in  the  St.  Louis 
Globe- Democrat  of  February  25th,  1879: 

[From  the  Globe-Democrat,  Feb.  25th,  1879.] 

The  Grand  Jury  report  presented  to  Judge  Laugh- 
lin  yesterday  noon  may  be  summed  up  as  follows: 

THE  COAL  OIL  MATTER. 

5.  They  also  diligently  investigated  the  complicity  of 
the  principal  venders  of  petroleum  or  coal  oil  in  this 
market,  and  desire  to  report  the  result  of  that  investiga- 
tion so  that  the  law-makers,  now  in  session  at  Jefferson 
City,  may  know  how  the  law  now  in  existence,  intended 
for  the  protection  of  life  and  property,  is  evaded  and  ren- 
dered void  and  of  no  effect.  The  former  law  required 
that  the  fire  test  for  standard  oil  should  be  no.  This  test 
not  being  sufficiently  safe,  and  for  the  better  protection 
of  the  lives  and  property  of  those  who  use  petroleum,  a 
new  law,  the  one  now  in  force,  was  enacted  by  the  leg- 
islature, raising  the  fire  test  for  standard  oil  to  150,  re- 
quiring that  the  contents  for  each  and  every  barrel  or 
package  should  be  inspected  by  the  inspector,  and  the 
same  gauge  tested  and  branded  and  the  quantity  and 
quality  of  each  barrel  branded  on  the  barrel,  and  that 
all  under  150  should  be  branded  "Rejected."  The  jury 
found  from  the  evidence  of  parties  before  them  that  the 
barrels  were  gauged  and  branded  before  the  oil  was  put 
into  them. 

The  gauging  of  the  barrels  is  mostly  done  by  the 
employes  of  the  Waters-Pierce  Oil  Company.  The 
oil  as  a  general  thing  was  tested,  and  in  the  tanks  in 
which  it  was  received  from  the  East,  and  not  in  the  bar- 
rels, as  the  law  requires;  and  the  fire  tests  are,  to  a  great 
extent,  made  by  the  employes  of  the  same  company,  and 
not  by  the  Inspector,  as  the  law  provides.  The  barrels, 
as  a  general  thing,  were  branded  by  the  Inspector,  but 
the  brands  were  left  in  the  possession  of  the  oil  compa- 


60  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

ny,  perfectly  accessible  to  the  company  or  its  employes, 
so  that  they  could  be  used  if  so  desired,  and  the  grand- 
jury  found  that  in  some  cases  they  were  so  used  by  per- 
sons in  the  employ  of  the  Waters-Pierce  Oil  Company. 
Thev  also  found  that  when  the  barrels  were  branded 
"Rejected"  the  word  "Rejected"  was  erased  or  marked 
out  by  the  employes  of  the  company.  The  fire  test  ap- 
peared to  have  always  been  marked  on  the  barrel,  but 
how  accurately  the  grand-jury  had  not  as  full  and  satis- 
factory evidence  as  they  desired.  But  some  test  barrels, 
the  fire  tests  of  which  were  branded  150,  were,  on  the 
inspection,  found  to  be  10  or  15  below.  Evidence  is  also 
before  the  grand  jury  that  barrels  were  gauged  to  con- 
tain more  oil  than  the  size  of  the  barrels  could  possibly 
contain — say  a  barrel,  the  capacity  of  which  is  50  gal- 
lons, was  gauged  to  contain  51  or  51^  gallons.  The 
value  of  the  oil  ranges  according  to  the  test  from  3  to  31^ 
cents  per  gallon  between  no  and  150.  There  would 
no  serious  injury  result  from  testing  oil  in  the  tanks,  pro- 
vided the  oil  was  tested  by  the  Inspector  and  the  same 
filled  into  barrels  into  his  presence. 

And  also  not  to  be  one-sided  to  the  verdict  publish- 
ed in  the  St.  Louis  Globe- Democrat  of  May  iSth,   1879: 
[St.  Louis  Globe-Democrat,  Sunday,  May  18,  1S79.] 
COAL    OIL    RING    A    MYTH. 


Waters-Pierce  Oil   Company  Vindicated. 

A  few  weeks  ago  certain  articles  appeared  in  the 
St.  Louis  Grocer,  a  trade  journal  published  under  the 
auspices  of  Greeley,  Burnharn  &  Co.,  in,  relation  to  coal 
oil  matters,  reflecting  upon  the  Inspector,  Harrison  At- 
taway,  and  the  parties  chiefty  engaged  in  supplying  the 
St.  Louis  market  with  coal  oil.  The  articles  charged 
that  enormous  frauds  had  been  perpetrated  in  guaging 
and  inspecting  coal  oil. 

The  "Waters-Pierce  Oil  Company"  furnish  proba- 
bly ninety -nine  hundreths  of  all  the  coal  oil  sold  in  St. 
Louis,   and   although   they    were    not   directly  charged 


LECTURE   OF   PROF.    SCWEITZER.  51 

with  the  supposed  frauds,  they  at  once  sued  Greeley, 
Burnham  &  Co.  for  a  libel  upon  their  business. 

A  large  number  of  depositions  were  taken  on  both 
sides,  and  these  conclusively  showed  that  so  tar  as  Wa- 
ters-Pierce Oil  Company  were  concerned  no  wrong 
whatever  had  been  committed;  but  that  both  the  guag- 
ing  and  testing  had  been  honestly  done.  But  the  testi- 
mony further  showed  that  there  had  been  no  fraudulent 
guaging  or  testing  done  by  anybody,  and  that  conse- 
quently the  indictment  of  the  Inspector  and  of  his  dep- 
uty, Able,  was  an  egregious  blunder. 

Two  or  three  trifling  irregularities  appeared  in  the 
mode  of  discharging  his  duties  by  the  Deputy  Insj^ector, 
but  not  in  the  least  affecting  his  integrity,  and  mostly 
chargeable  upon  deficiencies  in  the  old  inspection  law, 
which  never  was  sensible,  and  which  has  long  since  been 
outgrown  by  the  business  to  which  it  was  intended  to 
apply. 

THE    ATTAWAY    CASE  ENDED. 

When  the  case  against  Coal  Oil  Inspector  Harrison 
Attaway  was  called  in  Judge  Cady's  court  yesterday 
morning,  the  defendant's  counsel,  Messrs.  George  W. 
Cline  and  F.  D.  Turner,  appeared  and  stated  that  the 
attorneys  for  the  state,  who  were  not  present,  had 
agreed  that  they  did  not  possess  sufficient  evidence  to  se- 
cure a  conviction.  Prosecuting  Attorney  Hogan  said 
he  knew  nothing  about  the  case,  and  so,  as  the  regular 
counsel  for  the  prosecution  was  not  present,  was  willing 
that  the  case  should  be  dismissed  for  want  of  prosecu- 
tion.    Accordingly  the  defendant  was  discharged. 

I  may  be  allowed  in  this  connection  to  make  some 
additional  remarks  in  regard  to  the  inspection  of  Petro- 
leum oils;  the  yearly  consumption  of  them  for  the 
United  States  is  estimated  at  2,190,000  barrels  and  for 
our  own  state  at  100,000  barrels;  three  fourths  of  this 
quantity  is  tested  in  St.  Louis,  bringing  to  the  Inspector 
at  least  $9,000  a  year  in  fees;  were  he  to  make  inspec- 
tions of  smaller  packages  than  barrels,  his  fees  would  be 
even  more  than  that;  now  allowing-    1  =;  minutes  to  each 


52  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

test,  which  including  the  time  for  collecting-  is  certainly 
very  moderate,  18,750  working  hours  will  be  required. 
The  year,  Sundays  and  holidays  included,  has  8,760 
hours,  whence  it  can  be  seen  that  the  St.  Louis  Inspec- 
tor and  his  deputy  must  each  work  24  hours  a  day  the 
year  round,  and  manage  besides  to  put  in  somewhere 
1,230  extra  hours,  to  accomplish  the  testing  of  75,000 
samples,  for  it  is  impossible  to  make  even  for  an  hour 
two  tests  alongside  of  each  other  with  any  degree 
of  accuracy;  close  attention  is  required  throughout. 
It  is  perhaps  significant  that  the  same  gentleman 
who  at  the  time  of  his  first  appointment  made  oath 
io  -perform  the  duties  of  his  office  -ivith  fidelity,  and  who 
was  able  to  accomplish  this  in  some  occult  manner,  has 
been  rewarded  since  by  the  Governor  of  the  state  with 
a  re-appointment  to  the  same  position. 


11.    PRICE  OF  OIL  IN  NEW  YORK  MARKET. 

Office  of  Charles  Pratt  &  Co.,         1 
Established  1770,  I 

No.  128  Pearl  St.,  New  York, 

January  28th,  1S79.  J 

Prof.  P.  Schweitzer,  Columbia,  Mo. : 

Dear  Sir:  Your  favor  of  the  20th  instant  at  hand  ordering 
ten  gallons  of  Astral,  which  has  attention.  The  price  in  barrels, 
small  lots,  is  21  cents,  but  we  would  sell  a  car  load  at  18  cents  in 
barrels  and  22  cents  in  cans. 

In  answer  to  your  inquiries,  we  may  state,  that  the  difference 
in  price  between  no°fire  test  oil  and  1500  fire  test,  is  to-day  .in 
this  market  6  cents  per  gallon,  but  special  causes  sometimes  lower 
or  advance  this.  The  price  of  Astral  is  from  2  to  3  cents  per  gal- 
lon above  what  is  known  in  the  market  as  1500  oil. 

Yours  truly,  Charles  Pratt  &  Co. 

White  Line,  ) 

St.  Louis,  Feb.  22nd,   1879.      [ 
Freight  from  New  York  to  St.  Louis  4th  class  54  cents. 

D.  T.  Packer. 


LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER. 


53 


12.     TABLE  OF  TESTS  OF  PETROLEUM,  REQUIRED  BY 
LAWS  IN  DIFFERENT  STATES. 


I  Flashing 

STATES.                                point» 

Burning    j 
Point. 

ioo°  F 
ioo°  F 
ioo°  F 

I2O0   F 

ioo°  F 
ioo°  F 
ioo°  F 

no0  F 

Date  of  law  1868 

Ohio 

»      "     "     1863 
-      ••      "     1867 

«      «     "     1879 

••      '«     "     1869 

«      "     "     1871 

New  York  (*) 

1871 

(*)     1865 — ioo°  Fire  test;  1S66—  no"  Fire  test. 


Fire  test. 


Pennsylvania 

no0  F 
no0  F 

«     «     1865 
«      «     ••     1868 

1  io°  F 
no0  F 
110°  F 
1200  F 
itjo0  F 

-      «     •>     1869 

Georgia 

«      "     «     1870 

Maryland 

-      «     «     1871 

Maine 

»      '•     «     1867 

Missouri  (|) 

«         «       -       1879 

(f)  1865 — no0  F  emit  an  explosive  gas  or  take  fire;  1867 — 
no"  F  ignite  and  explode;  1S68— same  as  before;  fee  reduced  to  5 
cents  a  package;  1S70 — same  as  before;  fee  raised  to  6  and  12  cts. 
a  package;  1877 — 1500  F  fire  test. 


18.    THE  NEW  COAL  OIL  LAW.  PASSED  MARCH  27th,  1879. 

The  result  of  this  lecture,  which  I  repeated  by  invi- 
tation, on  March  12th,  in  the  hall  of  the  House  of  Rep- 
resentatives at  Jefferson  City,  was  the  introduction  by 
Senator  Burkholder  of  a  coal-oil  bill,  which  in  my  judg- 
ment covered  very  thoroughly  all  points  of  importance 
and  had  my  unqualified  approval  and  indorsement. 

It  was  not,  however,  the  only  bill  introduced  on  the 
subject  in  the  legislature,  and  was  with  the  rest  referred 
to  the  committee  on  Insurance,  which  reported  back  a 
substitute,  which  finally  passed  and  became  a  law. 

This  law,  the   result   of  the   deliberation  of  several 


54  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

committees,  one  of  which  at  least  was  aided  and  enlight- 
ened by  a  representative  and  his  attorney  of  a  large  coal 
oil  house  in  the  state,  is  an  extremely  inferior  piece  of 
workmanship;  for  it  retains  nearly  all  the  faults  of  the 
old  law,  without  offering  any  compensating  superior 
features;  no  safer  oils  need  be  expected  by  the  consum- 
mer  under  its  working  than  have  heretofore  been  sold  in 
the  state  under  the  old  law.  I  will  mention  a  few,  and 
only  a  few  of  the  objections  to  it : 

i.  It  does  not  require  the  Inspector  to  be  a  compe- 
tent and  qualified  pei-son,  all  reference  to  it  being  omit- 
ted ;  the  old  law  made  in  this  respect  at  least  a  show  ot 
aiming  higher. 

2.  It  omits  all  special  reference  to  the  mode  of 
punishment  or  of  removal  of  Coal  Oil  Inspector  for  in- 
competency when  branding  f.  e.,  oils  as  of  higher  fire 
test  than  is  actually  the  case. 

3.  It  makes  it  the  duty  of  the  Inspector  to  prose- 
cute all  persons  found  violating  its  provisions;  this 
amounts  either  to  nothing  or  to  too  much;  no  inspector  can 
be  expected  to  act  the  part  of  a  detective  for  a  large  dis- 
trict, and  he  should  surely  not  possess  the  right  to  prose- 
cute offenders  to  the  exclusion  of  every  aggrieved  citizen. 

4.  It  forbids  the  sale  and  use  (sec.  4)  for  illuminat- 
ing purposes,  of  all  fluids  having  a  fire  test  below  1500  F 
except  when  used  in  the  form  of  vapor  or  gas;  this 
provision  is  defective  and  useless,  since  all  petroleum 
lamps  are  in  reality  gas  or  vapor  lamps,  and  no  law  ex- 
ists to  make  a  distinction  between  them  or  draw  any- 
where a  dividing  line. 

5.  It  gives  a  long  and  detailed  description  (sec.  2, 
line  12-48)  of  the  manner  of  finding  the  flashing  point 
of  an  oil,  and  after  having  found  it  makes  no  earthly  use 
of  it.     It  is    required   neither  to  be  a  fixed   point  nor  to 


LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  66 

be  branded  on  the  packages.     Its  purpose,  unless  it  is  to 
breed  confusion,  can  not  be  apprehended. 

6.  It  describes  in  detail  the  procedure  for  obtaining 
the  fire  test  of  an  oil,  consuming  in  every  single  opera- 
tion 45  minutes,  without  counting  the  time  for  collecting 
samples  or  branding  packages.  This  is  a  grave  defect 
since  it  gives  to  inferior  oils,  as  already  explained,  a  fic- 
titious superiority  and  throws  most  of  the  business  into 
the  hands  of  the  St.  Louis  inspector;  the  labor  involved  in 
making  a  test  from  a  tank  of  1500  barrels  capacity  is  not 
greater  than  making  it  from  a  barrel;  yet  in  the  former 
case  the  fee  returned  is  180  dollars  and  in  the  latter  case 
12  cents;  who  would  like  to  be  coal  oil  inspector  in  a 
small  town? 


14.  BIBLIOGRAPHY  OF  PETUOLEUM. 
I  have  made  an  attempt  to  collect  as  far  as  I  was 
able  all  references  to  Petroleum,  and  to  arrange  them 
under  certain  headings,  hoping  that  the  labor  expended 
will  be  repaid  by  the  usefulness,  to  which  the  informa- 
tion may  be  put  by  brother  Chemists.  The  references 
are  given,  wherever  possible,  to  Bcrzelius'  (B.  J.)  and 
Liebig's  Jahresbericht  (L.J.)  and  to  the  original  sources 
of  publication. 

1.     Occurrence  axd  Origin: 
L.  J.     1859,    Foetterle;   Verhandl.    d.  k.  k.    geol.    Reichsanstalt 
1859,  183.     P.  i'r.  Gallicia. 
1S61,  Andrews;  Sill.  Am.  J.  2,  23,  85  P.  fr.  Pa.  O.  Ky. 
"         1S62,  Hunt;  Chem.  News  6,  5,  16.     P.  fr.  North  America. 

1863,  Hunt;  Sill.  Am.  J.,  March,  1S63. 

— ^-^  1866,  Lesley;  Proc.  Amer.  Philos.  Soc.  10,  ^,  187. 

1S6S,  Hunt;  Sill.  Am.  J.,  Nov.  1868. 

"         1S69,  Baumhauer;  Arch,  neerland,  4,  299,  P.  fr.  East  India. 
"         1869,  Both;  Russ.  Zeitsch,  Pharm.  8,  467,  P.   fr.  Russian 

Asia. 
"         1871,  Hunt;  Sill.  Am.  J.  3,  1,  420. 

"         187 1,  Le  Bel;  Compt.  rend,  73,  499,  P.  fr.  the  lower  Rhine. 
"  "       Heurteau;  Ann.  d.  min.  6,  19,  197,  P.  fr.  Galicia. 


66  UNIVEK8ITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

L.  J.     1871,  Foetterle;  Verhandl,   d.    k.   k.   geol.    Reichsanstalt, 
1S71,  356,  P.  from  Galicia. 
"       Vital;  Ann.  d.  min.  6,  20,  318,  P.  fr.  Pundjab. 
"         1872,  Le  Bel ;  Compt.  rend.  75,  267,  P.  fr.  the  lower  Rhine. 

"       Torrev ;  Am.  Chem.  2,  290.  P.  fr.  Mexico. 
"         1873,  Fuchs  and  Sarasin;  Arch.  ph.  nat.  dc  Genave,  1873, 
107.     P.  from  Wallachia. 
"      Joffre;  Bull.  soc.  chim,  2,  19,  547. 
"  "       Knop;  Jahrb.  Min.  1873,  529.     P.  fr.  the  Odenwald. 

"         1875,  Hunt;  Chemical  and  Geological  essays,  168. 
"         1877,  Weil;  Monit.  scientific,  3,  7,  295. 

"  "       Silvestri;  Gazz.  chim.  ital,  1877,  1.     P.  fr.  the    Etna. 

"       Mendelijeff;  Ber.  chem.  Gesell.   1877,  229. 
Chem.  C.  B.  1S79,  Ballo;  Ber.  chem.  Gesellsch,  11,  190.     P.  from 
Budapest. 
"         "     Radziszewski;  Arch,  pharm.  3,  13,  455. 
2.     Composition  and  Properties: 

1820,  Buchner  and  v.  Kobell;  Erdmann's  Jour.  8,  305. 

B.   J.     1831,  Unverdorben;  Kastner's  Archiv.  14,  122.     Fractional 
distillation. 
"         ^34,  De    Saussure;    Ann.   d.  chem.  phys.  40,   230.     Ex- 
periments with  Naphtha. 
"       Dumas;  Analysis  of  Naptha. 
"         1835,  Blanchet   and  Sell;  Ann.  Pharm.  6,  311.     Analysis 

of  Petroleum. 
"         1837,  v.  Kobell;  Journ.  pract.  chem.  5,  213.     P.  v.   Tege- 
rnsee. 
"       Gregory;  Journ.  pract.  chem.  1,  1,  P.  v.  Rangoon. 
"  "       Hess;  Pogg.  Ann.  36,  417. 

"         1841,  Pelletier   and    Walter;    Journ.     d.  Pharm.    25,   549. 
P.  from  Amiano. 
L.  J.     1847,  Frankenheim;  Pogg.  Ann.  72,  422.     Sp.  gravity. 
"         1850,  Van  Hess;  Arch.  Pharm.  2,61,  18.     Sp.  gravity. 
"         1856,  W.  de  la  Rue  and  Mueller;  Chem.  Gazz.  1856,  375. 

P.  from  Rangoon. 
"         i860,  Pebal;  Ann.   ch.  pharm.  115,  19.     P.    from  Gallicia. 
"  "       Bussenius  and  Eisenstueck;  Ann.  chem.  pharm.  113, 

"         1861,  Campbell;  The  Technologist  1S61,  249.     P.  from  Pa. 
"  "       Bleekrode;  Rep.  chim.  appl.  4,  10.     P.  fr.  the  Indian 

Archipelago. 
"         1863,  Bolley  and  Schwarzenbach;  Ding.  J.  169,  123. 
"  "       Pelouze  and  Cahours;  Compt.  rend.  56,  505;  57,  62. 

"         186^,  Tuttschew;  Journ.  prac.  chem.  93,  394. 
"  "       Buchner;  Ding.  pol.  J.  172,  392. 

"         1865,  Ronalds;  Chem.  soc.  J.  2,  3,  54. 
"  "       Warren;  Sill.  Am.  J.  2,40,  89-216-384. 

"  "       Schorlemmer;  Chem.  News,  ii,  255. 

"         1867,  Warren   and    Storer;  Memoirs   of  the    Am.    Acad. 

(new  series)  11,  208.     P.  from  Burmah. 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    SCHWEITZER.  67 

L.  J.     1867,  Silliman;  Sill.  Am.  J.  2,  43,  242.     P.  fr.  California. 
"  "       Hager;  Pharm.  Centralhaile,  1866,  393. 

"         1868,  Lefebvre;  Compt.  rend.  67,  1352. 
"  "       Warren;  Sill.  Am.  J.  2,  45,  262. 

"  "       Fouque;  Compt.  rend.  67,  1045. 

"         1869,  Said   Effendi;  Compt.  rend.  68,  1565.     Electric  con- 
duction. 
"         1870,  Saint-Claire    Deville;  N.  Petersb.,  Acad.  Bull.  15,  29. 
"         1871,  Lallemant;  Ann.  chem.  phys.  4,  22,  200. 
"  "       Morton;  Sill.  Am.  J.  3,  2,  19S--355. 

"  ,  "       Silliman  ;  Am.   chem.  2,  2,  18.     Private  report  made 

in  1855. 
"  "       Dana  Hayes;  Sill.  Am.  J.  3,  2,  184. 

"         1872,  Cailletet;" Compt.  rend.  75,  77. 

"         !874,  Heil  and  Medinger;  Chem.  Ges.  Ber.     1874,    I2I6- 
"         1875,  Vohl;  Ding.  J.  216,  47. 

"  "       Albrecht;  Zeitsch  f.  Paraffin,  etc.     Industrie,  1875,  1. 

"         1876,  Hemilian ;  Chem.  Ges.  Ber.  1876,   1604. 

"       Sadtler;  Am.  chem.  2,  7,  63-97-181. 

"       Bourgougnon;  Am.  Chem.  2,  7,  81. 

"  "  Am.  Chem.  Soc.  Proc.  2,  115. 

"         1877,  Akestorides;  Jour.  prac.  Chem.  2,  15,  62. 
"  "       Hell  and  Medinger;  Chem.  Ges.  Ber.  1877,  451. 

"  "       Letniy;  Bull.  Soc.  chem.  2,  27,  554. 

Chem.  C.  B.  1879,  Prunier  and  David;  Compt.  rend.  87,  991. 

3.     Safety  and  Testing: 

■  1863,  Marx;  Ding.  J.  166,  348. 

L.  J.  1865,  Atfield;  Chem.  News,  14,  257. 

"  "       Salleron  and  Urbain ;  Compt.  rend.  62,  43. 

"  "       Hager;  Pharm.  Centralhaile,  7,  233. 

"  1868,  Peltzer;  Ding.  J.  189,61 

"  "      Jeunesse;  Ann.  du  genie  civil  1S68,  J uillet. 

"  1869,  Hutton;  Chem.  News,  19,  41. 

"  "       Atfield;       "  "         19,70. 

"  1870,  Paul;  "  "         21,  2. 

"  "       Calvert;      "  "         21,85. 

"  "       List;  Wagner's  Jahrcsber,  f.  1870,  708. 

"  "       Jacobi;  Ding.  J.  195,  379. 

"  1871,   Byusson;  Compt.  rend.  73,  609. 

"  "       Van  der  Weyde;  Scientific  American,  1871,  162. 

"  1873,  Chandler;  Ding.  J.  207,  262. 

"  "      Jordery  ;  Journal  of  rharm.  1873,  348. 

"  1874,  Badische  Gewerbezeitung;  6,  112. 
"       Baird;  Compt.  rend.  78,  491-657. 

"  1875,  Cornwall;  Am.  Chem.  2,  6,  458. 

"  1876,  Cornwall;  Am.  Chem.  Society  Proc.  1,  71. 

«  u       Merrill;  "  "  "  "     1,  115. 

"  "       Sterling;   Ding.  J,  226,  no. 


58  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

4.     Industry. 

B.   J.     1840,  Boettger;  Annual  d.  Pharm.   25,    100.     Purification 

by  Oil  of  Vitriol. 
k.   J.      1859,  Vohi;   Ding.  J.  147,  374.     Illumination. 
"  "       Barlow;  Cosmos,  12,  513. 

"  "       Hasse;   Ding.  J.  151,  445.     Collection  of  it. 

"         i860,  Schwartz;  Oest.    Zeitsch.  f.   Bg,    u.  Huettenwesen, 

18G0,  No.  16,  21. 
"         1S61,  Breslauer  Gewerbeblatt,  1861   No.  16,  23.     Statistics 

of  Pennsylvania  petroleum, 
"         1S62,  Boileau;   Ann.  rnin.  6,  2,  95. 
"  "       Kopp;   Rep.  chim.  appl.  4,  40S. 

"  "  •    Marx  ;    Wuertembg.  Gewerbeblatt  1862,  No.  45. 

"  1S63,  Boileau;  Ann.  min.  6,  4,  105. 
"  *  "  Hix;  Rep.  chim.  appl.  5,  346. 
"  "       Youle  Huide;  Ann.  min.  6,  4,  117. 

44  "       Wiederhold ;   Ding.  J.  167,  63,  459. 

"  "       Vogel;   Ding.  J.  167,  225. 

"  "       Buchner;   Ding.  J.  169,339. 

«  «       Weil;   Le  Technologiste  1862,    132. 

"  "       Bolley;   Ding.   J.  169,  123. 

"  "       Wittstein;   Viertelj.  practical  Pharm.  12,343. 

"         1S64,  Wiederhold  ;   Ding.  J.  172,  468. 
"         1S65,  Paul;  Chem.  News,  10,292;  11,63. 
"  "       Richardson;   Chem.  News,  11,  39. 

"  "       Vohl;  Ding.  J.   175,  459;  177,    58.     Mentioning   of 

the  process  of  cracking. 
"         1866,  Macadam;   Chem.  News,  14,  no. 
"  "       Green;   Scientific  American,  13,  383. 

"  "       Vohl;   Ding.  J.  1S2,  319- 

"         1867;   Ott;   Ding.  J.  185,  195.     Lugo's  Apparatus. 

"       Peckham;  Chem.  News,  16,199.     Apparatus. 

"       Young  ;   Armengaud,  genie  industriel,  1S66,  27S. 
"  "       Ott;   Ding.  J.  187,  171. 

41  "       Bizarre  and  Labarre;  Ann.  min.  6,  n,  185. 

"       Schilling;   Ding.  J.  1S4,  4S5. 
44  "       Kolbe ;   D.    neuechem.  Lab.  d.  Universitaet  Leipzig, 

1868,  21. 
"  "       Reim;  Wien.  acad-  Anzeig.  1867,  155. 

"       Hirzel;   Zeitsch.  f-  Chem.  1867,  617. 

"       Silliman;  Chem.    News,    18,    171.     Petroleum  from 
California. 
44  "       Saint-Claire  Deville;  Compt.  rend.  66,  442. 

"         1S69,         "         "  «  "  "      68,   349-485-6S6J 

69>  933- 

44  "       Peckham;   Sill.  Am.  J.  2,  47,  9. 

4<  "       Humphrey;  Monit.  scientific,  n,  497. 

"       Zaengerle;   Ding  J.  193,  122 
"  "       Cech;  Ding.J.  194,  156. 

44         1871,  Dana  Hayes;   Sill.  Am.  J.  3,  2,    184. 


LECTURE  OF  PROF.   SCHWEITZER.  49 

L.  Jr  1871,  Byasson;  Compt.  rend.  73,  C09. 

'"  "  Grotowsky:   Pharm.  Soc.  Transact]  3,  2,  226. 

"  "  Silliman;  Sill.  Am.  J.  3,  1,408. 

"  1872,  Dana  Hayes;  Am.  Chem.  2,  2,  401. 

"  "  Fauck;   Berg.  u.  Iluettenm,  Zeit.  1872,  No.  41. 

"  "  Marx;   Ding.  J.  206,  442. 

"  "  Chandler;  Am.  Chem.  2,  2,  409-446;  3,  20-41. 

"  1873,  Prunier;  Bull.  Soc.  chim.  2,  19,  109. 

"  "  Fulist;  Ding.  T.  207,293. 

"  "  Pagliari;  Compt.  rend.  76,  362. 

"  "  "Arbeitgeber ;"  1873,  No.  843, 

"  "  Hoffman  ;  Ding,  J.  208,  237. 

"  1874,  Tweddle;  Arbeitgeber  Debr.  1S73. 

"  187s,  Wagner;  Bayerisch.   Indust.  u.  Gewerbeblatt,   1875, 

1,43- 

"  "       Gadd;   Iron  1S75,  332. 

"  "       Martin;  Le  Gaz. 

"  "       Thompson;  Am.  Chem.  2,6,  11. 

"         1S76,  Chandler;        "  "        2,6,251. 

"         1S77,  Martins:  Sitzungsber  d.  Vereins  z.    Befoerderung  d. 
Gewerbeneisses, 
5,     Books  and  Pamphlets: 

H.  Erni,  Coal  Oil  and  Petroleum,  etc. 

1861,  A,  Gessner,  A  practical  treatise,  etc.  London, 
1S63,  A.  N.  Tate,  Petroleum  and  its  products,  etc.    Liverpool. 
1S65,  Haudouin  et  Soulie,  Le  petrole,    ses  gisements,  etc,     Paris. 
"     E,  Schmidt,  Das  Erdoel  Galiziens,  Wien, 
"      "  "         Die  Erdoelreichthuemer  Galiziens,  Wien. 

"     v.  Neuendahl,  Vorkommen  und  Gewiririung  des  Petroleums 

in  Galizien,  Wien. 
"     Schiefer,  Tiber  das  naphthafnehrende  Terrain  west  Galiziens, 
Wien, 
1868,  B.  II,  Paul,  On  liquid  fuel,  London. 

1S71,  C,  F.  Chandler,  Report   on  Petroleum   as   an    Illuminator, 
New  York. 
"     W.  Wright,  The    Oil    Regions   of  Pennsylvania,   etc.  New 
*    York. 
1S75,  H.  E.   Wrigley,  Special  Report  on  the  Petroleum  of  Penn- 
sylvania.    Harrisburg,  (Second  Geological  Survey  of  Penn- 
sylvania, 1874.) 
"       S,  P,  Sadler,  Hydrocarbon  compounds;  Harrisburg.     (Sec- 
ond Geological  Survey  of  Pennsylvania  1S74.    Preliminary 
report  to   the  University  of  Pennsylvania  by  F.  A,  Genth 
with  the  above  appendix,) 
1876,  H.  B,  Cornwall,  Petroleum,  New  York. 
1S77,  J.  F.  Carll,  Oil    well    Records    and    Levels;  Harrisburg, 
(Second  Geological  Survey  of  Pennsylvania  1S76-7. 


60  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOUKI. 

15.    DRAFT  OF   THE   COAL  OIL   BILL    SUBMITTED    TO    A 
MEMBER  OF  THE  LEGISLATURE. 

Be  it  enacted  by  the  General  Assembly  of  the  State  of 
Missouri,  as  follows: 

Section  i.  The  governor  shall  appoint  for  each 
of  the  cities  of  St.  Louis,  Hannibal,  St.  Joseph  and  Kan- 
sas City,  and  such  other  cities  or  towns  as  shall  by  the 
city  or  town  authorities  petition  to  him  therefor,  an  in- 
spector of  coal  oil,  carbon  oil,  petroleum  oil,  kerosene, 
gasolene,  or  any  product  of  petroleum  used  tor  illumi- 
nating or  burning  fluids,  by  what  ever  name  known, 
which  may  be  manufactured  or  offered  for  sale  in  this 
state;  said  inspector  shall  be  a  competent  and  qualified 
person,  and  shall  at  his  own  expense  provide  himself 
with  the  necessary  apparatus  for  the  testing  of  any  such 
illuminating  oils  or  fluids. 

Sec.  2.  It  shall  be  the  duty  of  the  inspector,  when 
called  upon  for  that  purpose  by  the  owner,  manufacturer 
of  or  dealer  in  any  of  said  illuminating  oils  or  fluids, 
promptly  to  test  the  same  within  the  city  or  town  for 
which  he  is  appointed.  The  inspector  shall  in  all  cases 
take  the  oils  or  fluids  for  test  from  the  package  which  is 
intended  to  be  branded,  and  in  no  case  shall  he  mark  or 
brand  any  package  before  first  having  tested  the  contents 
thereof,  and  the  quantity  used  for  testing  such  illuminat- 
ing oil  or  fluid  shall  not  be  less  than  half  a  pint,  and 
shall  be  tested  according  to  the  provisions  of  this  act, 
and  all  such  illuminating  oils  or  fluids  that  will  emit  «n 
inflammable  vapor  at  a  less  temperature  than  one  hun- 
dred and  ten  degrees  Fahrenheit,  he  shall  brand  "reject- 
ed for  illuminating  purposes,"  and  all  that  will  stand  the 
flashing  test  of  one  hundred  and  ten  degrees  Fahrenheit, 
he  shall  brand  "approved  standard  fluid." 

Sec.  3.  The  inspector  shall,  in  addition  to  the 
brand  in  section  two  provided,  affix  his  brand  or  device 
upon  each  package  by  him   inspected,  designating   first, 

his  name  and  place  and  date  of  inspection  thus, , 

inspector  of ,  18 — ,  second,  the   flashing   point, 


LECTURE   OF    PROF.    SCHWEITZER.  61 

thus, "F."  and  if  the  fluid  inspected  has  a  flashing 

point  below  one  hundred  and  ten  degrees  F,  he  shall 
brand  such  package  with  the  words  "highly  dangerous." 
Sec.  4.  If  any  person,  manufacturer  or  dealer, 
shall  sell  to  any  person  whatsoever  in  this  state,  any  of 
the  said  illuminating  oils  or  fluids  before  first  having  the 
same  inspected  as  provided  in  this  act,  he  shall,  on  con- 
viction thereof,  be  fined  in  any  sum  not  exceeding  three 
hundred  dollars;  and  if  any  manufacturer  or  dealer  of 
said  illuminating  oils  or  fluids,  shall  with  intent  to  de- 
ceive or  defraud ,  alter  or  erase  the  inspector's  brand  to 
indicate  a  different  fire  test;  than  is  found  by  the  inspec- 
tor, or  shall  use  with  such  intent  packages  having  any 
inspector's  brand  thereon,  without  having  the  contents 
actually  inspected  shall,  on  conviction,  be  fined  in  any 
sum  not  exceeding  fifty  dollars  for  each  such  offense. 

Sec.  5.  If  any  inspector  shall  brand  any  package 
or  packages  of  the  said  illuminating  oils  or  fluids  in  the 
manner  prescribed  for,  "approved  standard  fluid,"  when 
such  oils  or  fluids  possess  a  flashing  point  of  less  than 
one  hundred  and  ten  degrees  F,  he  shall  on  conviction 
thereof,  be  fined  in  the  sum  of  three  hundred  dollars  and 
forfeit  his  office. 

Sec.  6.  All  prosecutions  for  fines  and  penalties  un- 
der the  provisions  of  this  act  shall  be  by  indictment  or 
information  in  any  court  of  competent  jurisdiction,  and 
when  collected,  shall  be  paid  into  the  treasury  of  the 
county  where  the  offense  is  committed,  one  half  of 
which  shall  be  paid  to  the  informer,  and  the  other  half 
to  %e  paid  to  the  common  school  fund. 

Sec.  7.  The  inspectors  are  hereby  empowered,  if 
necessary  to  the  convenient  despatch  of  their  respective 
duties,  to  appoint  competent  deputies,  empowered  to 
perform  the  duties  of  inspector,  and  for  whom  they  shall 
and  are  hereby  made  respectively  responsible  and  ac- 
countable. 

Sec.  8.  Every  person  appointed  inspector,  shall 
before  he  enters  upon  the  duties  of  his  office  obtain  a 
certificate  of  competency  from  the  professor  of  chemistry 
at  the  University  of  the   State  of  Missouri,  and  take  an 


62  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

oath  or  affirmation  to  support  the  Constitution  of  this 
State,  and  of  the  United  States,  and  to  perform  the  duties 
of  his  office  with  fidelity;  he  shall  also  execute  a  good 
and  sufficient  bond  to  the  State  of  Missouri,  in  such  sum 
and  with  such  securities  as  shall  be  approved  by  the 
mayor  of  such  city,  conditioned  for  the  faithful  perform- 
ance of  the  duties  herein  imposed  on  him,  which  bond 
shall  be  for  the  use  of  all  persons  aggrieved  by  the  acts 
or  neglects  of  such  inspector  or  his  deputy. 

Sec.  9.  The  term  of  office  of  inspector  shall  be 
for  one  year,  and  for  his  compensation  he  shall  be  enti- 
tled to  demand  and  receive  from  the  owner  of  the  illum- 
inating oils  or  fluids  tested,  and  marked  and  branded  as 
in  this  act  provided,  twelve  cents  for  each  barrel,  and 
six  cents  for  each  smaller  package. 

Sec.  10.  The  respective  inspectors  appointed  un- 
der this  act,  shall  keep  a  correct  record  of  all  illuminat- 
ing oils  or  fluids  inspected,  in  a  book  to  be  furnished  by 
the  city  authorities  of  such  city,  and  which  shall  be  open 
to  inspection  by  all  persons  interested,  and  report  annu- 
ally to  the  governor  the  number  of  barrels  and  smaller 
packages  inspected,  and  quarterly  to  the  mayor  of  the 
city  for  which  he  is  inspector. 

Sec.  11.  No  inspector  nor  deputy  inspector  shall, 
while  in  office,  be  interested  directly  or  indirectly  in  the 
manufacture  or  vending  of  any  of  the  said  illuminating 
oils  or  fluids,  to  be  inspected  under  this  act,  nor  shall  he 
for  the  purpose  of  testing,  take  away  or  appropriate  any 
part  of  said  illuminating  oils  or  fluids  to  his  own  use,  or 
for  the  use  of  any  other  person,  under  penalty  of  five 
hundred  dollars,  to  be  recovered  by  an  indictment  or  in- 
formation, in  the  manner  provided  for  in  section  five  of 
this  act. 

Sec.  12.  The  apparatus  to  be  employed  in  this 
test  shall  consist  of  an  outer  vessel  of  metal  to  contain 
water,  about  four  inches  in  diameter  and  four  inches 
deep,  so  contrived  that  some  source  of  heat,  such  as  a 
spirit  lamp  or  gas  burner,  can  be  applied  to  it  to  heat 
the  water  which  it  contains;  an  inner  vessel  of  thin  metal 
to  contain  the  petroleum  to  be  tested,  about  two  inches 


LECTURE  OF  PROF.  SCHWEITZER.  68 

in  diameter  and  two  inches  deep,  provided  with  an  ex- 
ternal rim  or  flange,  above  which  the  edge  of  the  vessel 
shall  rise  about  one- fourth  of  an  inch,  and  by  which  it 
may  be  supported  in  the  outer  vessel,  so  that  its  contents 
may  be  heated  through  the  medium  of  the  water;  a 
Fahrenheit  thermometer,  with  a  spherical  bulb,  in  the 
scale  of  which  ten  degrees  shall  occupy  at  least  half  an 
inch  in  length.  In  making  the  experiment  with  this  ap- 
paratus, the  inner  vessel  shall  be  filled  with  the  petrole- 
um to  be  tested,  but  care  must  be  taken  that  the  liquid 
does  not  cover  the  flat  rim;  the  outer  vessel  shall  be  fill- 
ed with  cold  or  nearly  cold  water,  a  small  flame  shall  be 
applied  to  the  bottom  of  the  outer  vessel,  and  the 'ther- 
mometer shall  be  inserted  in  the  oil  so  that  the  bulb  shall 
be  covered  by  the  petroleum  ;  when  heat  has  been  applied 
to  the  water  until  the  thermometer  has  risen  to  about 
ninety  degrees  Fahrenheit,  a  very  small  flame  shall  be 
quickly  passed  across  the  surface  of  the  oil,  taking  care 
however  that  the  flame  shall  not  touch  the  oil;  if  the 
vapor  be  not  ignited,  that  is,  if  no  pale  blue  flash  or 
flicker  of  light  be  produced,  the  application  of  the  light 
shall  be  repeated  at  about  every  two  degrees  of  increase 
of  temperature,  until  the  flash  of  the  ignited  vapor  can 
be  seen,  and  the  tempei-ature  at  which  this  first  takes 
place  is  the  temperature  at  which  the  sample  of  petrole- 
um gives  off  an  inflammable  vapor,  and  shall  be  marked 
upon  the  package,  tested  as  the  flashing  point  of  such  oil 
or  fluid  tested. 

Sec.  13.  Whenever  any  vacancy  occurs  under  this 
act  by  death,  resignation,  removal  from  office  or  other- 
wise, the  mayor  of  the  city  where  the  vacancy  happens, 
shall  immediately  certify  the  same  to  the  governor,  who 
shall  appoint  and  commission  his  successor,  for  the  re- 
mainder of  the  term  of  office  as  herein  provided,  and  in 
all  cases  where  any  inspector  shall  be  charged  by  indict- 
ment or  information,  for  a  violation  of  the  duties  of  his 
office  as  herein  before  provided,  the  governor  may  sus- 
pend him  from  the  duties  of  his  office,  and  appoint 
another  one  to  fill  such  vacancy  during  the  time  such 
inspector  shall  remain  suspended. 

Sec.    14.     All  acts,  amendments  and  parts  of  acts  in 


64  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

relation  to  the   inspection  of  coal  oil  and  petrolenm  oils 
are  hereby  repealed. 

Sec.  15.  The  necessity  of  an  immediate  change  in 
the  law,  there  being  none  now  in  force,  whereby  delin- 
quent inspectors  can  be  removed,  is  hereby  declared  an 
emergency,  and  this  act  shall  take  effect  and  be  in  force 
from  and  after  its  passage. 


EVOLUTION   AND  CREATION. 


By  George  C.  Swallow,  M.  D.,  LL.  D.,  Professor 
of  Agriculture  and  of  Natural  History,  \ni> 
Dean  of  the  Agricultural  Faculty. 


Three  hundred  and  eighty-six  years  ago  the  third 
day  of  last  August,  there  was  a  grand  Gala  Day  at  Palos 
ih  Spain.  By  the  wishes  of ■  the  good  Queen  Isabella, 
the  courts  of  Castile  and  Arragon  and  the  dignitaries  of 
the  Catholic  Church,  were  assembled  in  that  goodly  city 
to  pronounce  a  benediction  upon  Columbus  and  his  three 
small  ships,  which  that  day  sailed  from  t his  renowned 
port.  These  poor  pinnaces,  unseaworthv,  badly  man- 
ned and  poorly  equipped,  turned  their  prows  boldly  out 
into  the  broad  Atlantic,  and  for  seventy-one  days  held 
their  way  into  the  vast  expanse  towards  the  setting  sun, 
in  search  of  the  rich  Cathay.  As- day  after  day  passed 
by  and  favoring  winds  and  currents  bore  them  on  and 
on,  into  the  vast  unknown,  a  superstitious  fear  settled 
down  like  a  pall  upon  the  ignorant  sailors.  They  be- 
lieved the  earth  a  broad  expanse,  bounded  by  precipitous 
edges.  They  saw  in  their  fears  the  trade  Winds  and  the 
equatorial  currents  bearing  them  steadily  on  to  the  fatal 
verge,  over  which  they  would  plunge  down  and  down 
into  the  fathomless  abyss  below. 

But  Columbus  believed  the  earth  a  globe,  and   that 
he  would   find  the   east   tinder  the  setting  sun!     The 


66  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

fearful  sailors  counselled  a  return  before  it  would  be  for- 
ever too  late.  Columbus  with  sublime  faith  in  God  and 
science,  held  a  steady  helm,  and  kept  his  course.  The 
sailors  plotted  mutiny  and  threatened  violence;  but  the 
intrepid  leader  kept  his  undeviating  way,  and  on  the 
morning  of  the  twelfth  day  of  October,  planted  the  ban- 
ner of  Spain  and  the  Church  on  San  Salvador. 

Thus  ended  the  first  great  conflict  between  modern 
science  and  the  church.  The  church  taught  that  tbe 
earth  is  a  broad  expanse  of  land  and  water:  but  the 
dawnings  of  science  declared  it  a  globe.  Columbus  be- 
lieved the  science  and  conceived  the  idea  of  reaching 
China  and  the  Indies  by  the  west.  He  spent  ten  years 
in  trying  to  persuade  the  monarchs  of  western  Europe 
to  furnish  means  for  the  voyage.  But  their  Catholic- 
majesties  disbelieved  his  science  and  doubted  his  ability 
to  solve  the  geographical  paradox  of  finding  the  cast  in 
the  west. 

But  the  good  Queen  Isabella  gave  him  the  ships 
and  the  doubting  prayers  of  the  church  for  his  success 
and  safe  return. 

His  failure  to  find  China  became  a  grand  success 
in  finding  America.  It  was  a  splendid  triumph  for  both 
science  and  the  church;  as  it  gave  a  new  continent  to 
the  church  for  its  victories,  and  to  science  for  its  wonder- 
ful discoveries. 

This  conflict  involved  no  important  religious  truth: 
but  there,  is  another  conflict  between  some  scientists  and 
the  church,  now  waged  with  unparalleled  ability  and 
zeal  all  over  the  civilized  world.  In  it  are  involved 
some  of  tiic  vital  truths  of  the  Christian  religion,  and  in- 
deed, of  all  religions.  It  involves  no  less  a  question 
than  the  origin  of  man — whether  he  descended  from  a 
created  Adam,  or  whether  he  must  trace    his  ancestn 


LECTURE    OF    PROJF.  SWALLOW.  67 

back  through  a  countless  series   of  animals  to  an  infini- 
tesimal speck  of  self-evolved  sarcode. 

The  one  is  the  teaching  of  the  Bible,  the  other  is 
the  Theory  of  Evolution.  The  one  is  the  teaching  of 
God's  word;  the  other  claims  to-  he  the  indication  of 
God's  works.  But  the  word  and  the  works  of  the  Cre- 
ator must  agree.  If  they  do  not  agree  in  both  appear- 
ance and  reality,  it  is  because  we  do  not  interpret  the 
one  or  the  other  aright. 

Some  appear  to  think  that  this  disagreement  be- 
tween some  scientists  and  theologians  is  fatal  to  both 
science  and  religion;  but  they  should  remember  that  the 
expounder^  of  natural  laws  and  christian  teachers  are 
alike  fallible  men;  that  they  often  do  make  mistakes  in 
their  expositions  of  natural  and  revealed  truths.  We 
might  illustrate  our  ignorance: 

An  ocean  steamer  is  a  little  world  in  itself.  The 
owner  provides  the  power  for  running  the  steamer  and 
all  things  needful  for  the  comfort  and  safety  of  the  pas- 
sengers. Two  philosophic  flies  happen  on  one  of  these 
steamer-.  They  determine  to  investigate  its  nature  and 
laws.  One  fly  goes  down  into  the  engine  room  and 
finds  the  water  hot  and  vapory.  The  other  fly  investi- 
gates the  dining  table  and  finds  the  water  cold  and  icy. 
There  comes  a  grand  conclave  of  the  fly  people;  and  the 
two  investigators  big  with  the  magnitude  of  their  dis- 
coveries, come  from  the  antipodes  of  the  ship-world  and 
report.  One  reports  his  discovery  of  water  cold  as  ice 
which  the  people  drink;  and  the  other  reports  his  dis- 
covery of  water  as  hot  as  fire,  which  makes  the  steam 
to  propel  the  ship. 

The  first   positive   in  the  fullness  ot  his  knowledge 

loftily  condemns  the  discoveries  of  his  fellow-worker  as 

k  heresy,  fraught  with  the  most   fearful  consequences 


«8 


UN'IVKKSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 


to  the  whole  race.  For,  said  lie,  if  we  drink  his  boiling 
water,  it  will  kill  us  all.  The  other  replies  with  equal 
zeal  and  assurance,  that  the  teachings  of  his  co-worker 
are  mere  superstitious  dogmas,  fit  only  for  the  ignorant 
and  the-  vulgar.  For,  if  water  were  cold  it  would  make 
no  steam,  the  ship  would  stop  in  mid  ocean  and  involve 
all  in  universal  ruin. 

The  Hies  take  sicks.  The  cold  water  flics  and  the 
hot  water flies  wage  a  bitter  contest,  until  some  observe! 
sees  the  water  poured  into  the  tea  kettle  cold  and  come 
out  kot,  and  reports  the  fact  that  water  may  be  both  cold 
and  hot.  This  proves  both  parties  right  ancj  both 
wrong — both  right  in  the  facts  reported,  and  both  wrong 
in  the  conclusions  drawn  from  an  imperfect  knowledge 
of  water. 

Thus  we  might  expect  ignorant  flies  to  differ  about 
the  nature  and  functions  of  the  outfit  of  a  steamer.  No 
less  should  we  expect  ignorant  men  to  differ  about  the 
moral  and  physical  laws  of  the  universe. 

Some  men  seem  to  think  a  difference  of  opinion  in- 
volves a  criminal  negled  of  truth  and  duty;  that 
scientists,  who  announce  truths  or  theories  apparently 
conflicting  with  the  interpretations  of  revelation,  are 
heretical  and  pestiferous,  inimical  to  the  cause  of  truth 
and  Christianity.  I>ut  it  is  a  remarkable  'act  that  a 
larger  part  of  the  scientists  thus  condemned  as  hostile  to 
the  church,  have  keen  its  devoted  members;  and  man) 
of  the  facts  so  vigorously  condemned,  'nave  been  accepted 
as  true  1>\  the  church  itself.  Among  these  may  lie  men- 
tioned the  astronomical  theories  of  Galileo  and  Coperni- 
cus, and  the  geological  conclusions  of  C'onvbcare  and 
Murchison,  as  to  the  age  of  the  earth. 

The  theories  thus    tar    condemned    have    done    very 
little    injury    to    science    or    religion.      A    difference     of 


LECTURE  OF   PROF.  3W.VLt.OW.  69 

opinion  among  the  flies,  could  scarcely  retard  the  pro- 
gress of  an  ocean  steamer;  so  the  theories  of  men  will 
scarcely  mar  the  progress  of  nature  or  the  faith  of  men. 

Tyndall's  denial  of  the  efficacy  of  prayer,  has  scarce- 
ly checked  a  father's  care,  or  lessened  the  number  of 
devout  worshipers.  Every  christian  must  feel  for  him 
as  for  an  orphan,  who  knows  no  father's  listening  ear. 
And  every  one  can  but  pity  a  man,  whose  sublime  im- 
pudence permits  him  to  tell  the  hundreds  of  millions 
who  know  their  prayers  are  answered,  that  they  are  de- 
ceiving themselves  and  bearing  false  testimony  to  their 
fellow-men. 

So  every  scholarly  christian  must  blush  with  shame 
when  he  hears  our  christian  teachers  confound  the  creat- 
ing and  makitio-  of  the  glorious  Mosaic  Cosmos,  or  in 
any  way  violating  the  acknowledged  teachings  of  science 
and  revelation. 

HISTORY     ()!       EVOLUTION". 

But  "Development"  which  you  invite  me  to  dis- 
cuss, is  no  matter  of  recent  origin;  nor  did  it  come  fully 
developed  like  Minerva,  all  armed  from  Jupiter's  brain. 
It  has  come  in  fragments  from  the  brains  of  sundry  spec- 
ulators along  the  ages  of  the  last  three  thousand  years. 
But  it  was  left  for  modern  scientists  to  weave  the  parts 
into  that  ingenious  s\  stem  called  Evolution  or  Develop- 
ment. 

A  history  of  the  origiirand  progress  of  the  various 
parts,  would  be  instructive;  but  it  would  consume  my 
hour.  I  can  only  glance  at  the  origin  of  some  of  the 
most  salient  features. 

Epicurus,  so  far  as  I  knowj  gave  the  Hist  distinct 
declaration  of  the  spontaneous  generation  of  animals 
from  the  dust  of  the  earth.  This  Grecian  philosopher 
taught   that    the    primitive    earth,    rich    and  nitrous   and 


70  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

warmed  by  the  sun,  was  soon   covered   with  plants,  and 
that  animals  sprang  spontaneous  from  the  fat  soil. 

About  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  M.  Maillet 
published  a  philosophic  romance,  in  which  he  made  the 
ocean  the  source  of  the  lower  order-  of  organic  beings; 
and  when  the  land  appeared  in  the  primeval  ocean,  these 
lower  forms  of  plants  and  animals  came  trooping  up 
from  the  teeming-  seas  to  populate  the  inviting  shores. 
Flying  fish  became  birds  and  creeping  things,  four-foot- 
ed beasts;  and  some  imaginary  monsters,  mermaids  per- 
haps, became  men. 

In  this  author,  we  have  the  distinct  transmutation 
of  species  announced  in  a  form  but  slightly  more  reason- 
able than  that  in  the  fable  of  Deucalion.  The  change  of 
fish  into  birds  is  a  little  more  plausible  than  that  of  stones 
into  men. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  present  century,  M.  La- 
marck and  other  French  savans  reasserted  the  theory  of 
development  and  the  transmutation  of  the  lower  animals 
into  the  higher,  until  all  were  produced  by  natural  laws, 
without  a  Creator  to  give  the  vital  spark  and  inspire  the 
moral  and  religious  nature  of  man. 

But  towards  the  middle  of  this  century,  The  Vesti- 
ges of  Creation  appeared  in  England.  In  this  famous 
work,  the  ingenious  author  combined  the  Nebular 
Theory  of  La  Place,  by  which  the  Heavenly  bodies 
were  evolved  out  of  the  primeval  star-dust ;  the  spon- 
taneous generation  of  Epicurus,  by  which  the  world 
was  peopled  with  plants  and  animals;  and  the  Evolu- 
tion of  Maillet,  by  which  the  simple  animals,  that 
sprang  like  mushrooms  from  the  fat  primal  earth,  were 
developed  into  the  higher  and  higher  orders,  until  the 
monkey  becomes  the  man. 

And  all  these  wonderful  miracles,  these   suspensions 


LKCTUKE   OP    PROF.  SWALLOW.  71 

and  violations  of  laws,  are  accomplished  by  the  laws 
themselves — by  the  powers  of  matter  inherent  in  the 
primordial  star-dust. 

These  remarkable  departures  from  the  usual  stand- 
ards of  doctrine  in  both  the  scientific  and  religious 
worlds,  were  so  great  and  startling  as  to  attract  univer- 
sal attention  and  to  awaken  much  solicitude  for  the  sta- 
bility of  those  opinions,  upon  which  had  been  based  the 
world's  progress  in  letters,  philosophy,  science  and  re- 
ligion. Mankind  had  believed  there  could  be  no  begin- 
ning or  change  of  existence  without  an  adequate  cause. 
And  yet  this  Hypothesis  of  Development  asks  us  to  be- 
lieve in  a  Nebulous  matter  or  star-dust,  which  filled  all 
space,  condensed  around  certain  centres,  assumed  a  rota- 
ry motion,  and  from  time  to  time  threw  off  masses, 
which  became  systems,  planets  and  satellites;  that  our 
planet  was  pregnant  with  spontaneous  life;  that  sea- 
weed covered  all  the  shores  with  gaudy  colors;  that 
myriads  at  Protozoans  swarmed  in  all  the  waters,  and 
countless  Polvps  reared  their  coral  cities  in  all  the  shal- 
low seas;  that  when  the  first  dry  land  appeared,  the  first 
of  living  things  came  swarming  out  upon  the  welcome 
shore  and  were  transformed  as  each  most  desired  into 
creeping  things,  the  beasts  of  the  field,  the  birds  of  the 
air.  and  even  into  man  himself;  and  that  all  these  won- 
derful creations  and  transformations  came  with  no  crea- 
tive power  and  no  power  to  rule,  save,  what  was  inhe- 
rent in  the  original  star-dust. 

But  the  Vestiges  contained  a  formidable  array  of 
facts  and  fiction,  science  and  philosophy,  reason  and 
sophistry,  to  sustain  its  strange  theories.  The  discussions 
which  this  work  called  out,  were  exceedingly  able  and 
so  fully  sustained  the  old  standards  of  thought  and  reason 
that  scientific  men   continued   to   believe   in  the  creation 


72  UNIVERSITY    OK    MISSOURI. 

and  immutability  of  species,  and  the  church-men  in  the 

Creator  and  the  Genesis  of  Moses. 

Some  ten  years  later  Mr.  Charles  Darwin  publish- 
ed The  Theory  of  J5vofo*ton,  somewhat  modified.  He 
adopts  the  idea  of  Oken,  that  the  first  and  lowest  forms 
of  animals  were  created;  and  from  these  simple  primary 
animals,  mere  jelly-specks,  all  the  higher  orders  were 
developed  by  natural  selection  and  the  .survival  of  the 
ft  test  in  the  struggle  for  life. 

Mr.  Darwin  has  collected  a  vast  array  of  fact--  from 
all  departments  of  nature  to  illustrate  his  Hypothesis. 
He  presents  the  facts  and  arguments  with  great  fairness 
and  ability.  Still  he  does  not  appear  to  feel  his  theory 
proved;  hut  that  the  facts  which  sustain  it,  far  out-weigh 
those  which  condemn   it. 

Many,  especially  English  and  Americn  scientists, 
who  rejected  the  theory  of  Lamarck  and  the  Vestiges, 
accept  it  as  modified  by  Mr.  Darwin,  admitting  the  cre- 
ation of  the  primordial  animals.  But  the  French  more 
generally  reject  it.  It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  many 
nominal  Darwinians  not  only  accept  the  theory  of 
their  great  leader,  but  also  the  entire  unadulterated  sys- 
tem of  the  Vestiges. 

There  are  other  singular  facts  in  this  connection. 
While  the  young  Zoologists  and  Botanists  of  America 
accept  the  theory  in  its  extreme  form,  the  older  Geolo- 
gists reject  it,  while  the  advocates  of  the  theory  appeal 
to  the  vast  cycles  of  the  geological  record  for  proof,  the 
Geologists  themselves  fail  to  find  any  real  proof  in  that 
record;  while  Tyndall  and  Proctor,  who  know  but  lit- 
tle of  plants  ami  animals  and  geology,  accept  develop- 
ment, Agazziz  and  Dawson  and  Hall,  the  first  of  all 
naturalists  especially  in  the  departments  upon  which  this 
theory  r?sts,  wholly  reject    it. 


LKGTUKE   Of    I'ROK.    SWALLOW.  78 

Having  stated  this  epitome  ot  the  history  and  pres- 
ent status  of  the  Development  Theory,  I  propose  to  ex- 
amine very  briefly  some  of  the  arguments  by  which  it 
is  sustained,  and  to  present  a  few  of  the  objections  to  it; 
and  to  do  this  from  a  purely  scientific  standpoint.  It 
must  be  borne  in  mind  that  science  accepts  no  theory  as 
proved,  until  it  is  shown  to  be  in  perfect  accord  with  all 
important  known  facts  of  science. 

Whatever  may  be  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Darwin  or 
any  other  individual,  the  real  question  at  issue  in  this 
whole  discussion,  according  to  Drs.  Sebastian  and 
Child,  Prof.  Iiaskel  and  Mr.  Herbert  .Spencer,  and  Mr. 
Huxley,  is  whether  all  organic  beings,  all  plants  and  all 
animals  have  been  produced  by  the  laws  of  nature  with- 
out any  supernatural  creative  power. 

In  this  are  involved   two  distinct  questions: 

ist.  Whence  came  the  first  plant  and  the  first  ani- 
mal? Epicurus  says  by  the  spontaneous  generation  of 
the  earth.  Evolution  also  says,  by  spontaneous  genera- 
tion.    But  Moses  says,  by  creation. 

2nd.  Whence  came  the  first  plant  and  the  first  an- 
imal of  each  species?  (There  must  have  been  a  first  dog 
and  a  first  horse  and  a  first  man  as  well  as  a  first  of  all 
animals.)  Evolution  says,  by  natural  selection  and  the 
survival  of  the  fittest.     But  Moses  says,  by  creation. 

Let  us  examine  what  science  says  on  the  spontane- 
ous generation  of  organic  beings  and  the  evolution  of 
species,  by  reviewing  the  leading  arguments  adduced  to 
prove  these  hypotheses. 

SPONTANEOUS     GENERATION. 

Many  who  believe  in  the  spontaneous  generation  of 
animals,  have  been  experimenting  for  many  years  to 
prove  the  theory. 

Some  thirty   years   ago,  one   Dr.   Crosse   announced 


74  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

his  success;  that  he  had  evolved  new  animals  by  passing 
a  galvanic  current  through  certain  solutions.  These 
minute  beings  were  all  alike,  and  were  named  Acarus 
Crossii  in  honor  of  their  creator.  But  alas!  for  human 
hopes!  Mr.  Crosse  exhibited  his  experiment;  and  the 
little  mites  came  trooping  up  the  wires  from  the  produc- 
tive solution.  But  an  observer  recognized  them  as  old 
acquaintances — they  were  the  well  known  little  spiders, 
Acarus  horidus!  and  Dr.  Crosse  was  compelled  to  step 
down  from  the  high  throne  of  a  creator  to  the  very 
humble  seat  of   a  hatcher  of  spider's  eggs. 

Several  other  experimenters  have  supposed  they 
had  succeeded  in  this  new  line  of  creation;  but  careful 
investigation  has  clearly  proved  that  they  had  merely 
warmed  into  life  the  germs  of  pre-existing  organisms. 

So  far  then  as  science  speaks  at  all  on  this  subject, 
it  says  there  is  no  such  thing  as  spontaneous  generation 
of  organic  beings,  and  sustains  Harvey,  that  all  living 
things  came  from  germs  or  eggs,  the  products  of  parent- 
al beings — "Om?te  vivum  ex  ovo" 

Since  then  science  has  settled  this  question  ot  spon- 
taneous generation  against  Epicurus  and  Lamarck, 
Crosse  and  their  followers,  it  only  remains  to  inquire 
how  far  science  sustains  the  evolution  of  one  species 
from  another. 

EVOLUTION. 

Various  arguments  are  advanced  to  prove  that  Evo- 
lution is  the  source  of  the  higher  orders  of  animals  and 
plants.  These  arguments  claim  our  careful  attention,  as 
upon  the  issues  depend  many  opinions  which  mankind 
have  held  as  sacred  as  household  gods. 

I.       BY     HYBRIDISM    OR    THE    PRODUCTION    OF     HYBRIDS. 

It  is  claimed  that  HyDrids,  as  the  mule  from  the  ass 


LECTURK   OF    PROP.  SWALLOW.  75 

and  the  horse,  become  distinct  species;  and  that  the 
higher  orders  were  thus  produced  by  natural  laws  only. 

It  is  well  established  that  mules  or  Hybrids,  are 
sometimes  produced  in  both  the  animal  and  vegetable 
kingdoms;  and  that  Hybrids  are  like  both  parents  in 
some  respects  and  unlike  both  in  others. 

But  there  are  many  very  serious  objections  to  Hy- 
bridism as  a  mode  of  developing  new  and  higher  species 
of  animals. 

i.  There  are  few  if  any  instances  in  which  Hy- 
brids are  capable  of  perpetuating  themselves.  All  the 
skill  and  science  of  men,  incited  by  the  hope  of  boundless 
gain,  and  aided  by  the  resources  of  nations,  have  been 
exerted  in  vain  to  produce  a  fertile  mule.  Man  has  ex- 
hausted all  his  resources  for  these  thousand  years;  he 
has  brought  to  his  aid  all  the  relatives  of  the  eepiinc 
family — the  Zebra  and  Quagga  from  the  wilds  of  Africa 
and  the  Hemionus  from  the  steppes  of  Asia,  to  aid  his 
grand  work  in  producing  a  fertile  equine  Hybrid.  But 
all  in  vain.  All  the  Hybrids  prove  barren  inter  se, 
The  integrity  of  species  is  sustained — the  creative  feat 
stands  vindicated. 

2.  The  Hybrid  is  sometimes  fertile  with  one  or 
both  parent  species;  but  in  all  such  cases  the  progeny 
looses  the  characteristics  of  the  Hybrid  and  returns  to 
one  or  the  other  of  the  original  species,  thus  barring  all 
hope  of  a  new  species  from  such  Hybrids. 

3.  In  the  vegetable  kingdom,  it  is  well  established, 
though  disputed  by  some,  that  Hybrids  may  be  fertile. 
But  it  is  clearly  shown  that  the  progeny  of  the  Hybrid 
returns  to  one  or  the  other  of  the  parent  species;  as 
proved  by  the  seedlings  of  the  famous  Bartram  Oak, 
from  which  it  was  expected  a  new  species  would  be  es- 
tablished. 


76  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

4.  It  is  admitted  by  all  that  Hybrids  seldom  occur 
in  nature;  that  nearly  all  well  established  eases,  have 
been  produced  in  the  domestic  state  and  by  conditions 
forced  upon  the  parents  by  the  power  and  art  of  man. 
Such  is  the  want  of  sympathy  between  different  species 
in  the  state  of  nature  as  to  preclude  the  production  ot 
Hybrids  under  all  ordinary  circumstances  of  natural  an- 
imal life. 

5.  Tf  the  500.000  species  of  animals  have  been  pro- 
duced by  Hybridizing  a  few  of  the  primitive  species, 
nearly  or  quite  all  of  them  must  have  been  produced  in 
a  state  of  nature;  since  they  are  older  than  man,  or  at 
least  contemporary  with  him,  and  could  not  have  been 
produced  by  his  aid. 

6.  Hybrids  partake  of  the  nature  of  both  parents. 
Thej'  are  seldom  higher  or  lower  than  the  average  of 
the  two  ancestral  species.  No  Hybrid  has  shown  the 
characteristics  of  a  higher  species  or  order.  If  then  it 
were  even  proved  that  Hybrids  form  new  and  perma- 
nent species,  the  higher  orders  could  not  have  been  thus 
produced  from  the  lower  primordial  species. 

There  are  therefore   no  facts   to  show  it  even    possi 
ble   to  produce  a  carniverous   Hybrid   from   herbiverous 
parents,  none   to  show    even   the  remotest   possibility  of 
producing   a   human    Hybrid   from    any    two   species  ot 
monkey. 

It  is  claimed  by  many  that  the  various  races  of  dogs 
were  produced  by  Hybridizing  two  or  more  species  oi 
native  dog>.  If  so  the  experiment  has  been  a  long  Qne 
and  under  man's  best  care.  But  it  has  produced  nothing 
but  dogs;  and  no  one  expects  it  ever  will  produce  any- 
thing but  dogs. 

II.       BY     NATURAL    SELECTION. 

But  the  most  important  modification  oi   the  Theory 


LKOTUKR    OF    PROP.    SWALLOW.  77 

oflEvolution,  is  that  of  Natural  Selection  or  the  survival 
of  the  fittest. 

By  this  theory  Mr.  Darwin  and  man)-  others  claim, 
that  the  changes  produced  in  animals  and  plants  by  food, 
climate  and  other  causes,  are  preserved  and  transmitted 
when  those  changes  improve  the  animal,  and  give  him 
greater  fitness  for  the  conditions  of  life  in  which  he  has 
been  placed;  and  that  those  not  thus  improved  will  be 
less  able  to  sustain  themselves  and  will  perish  in  the 
struggle  for  life;  and  thus  by  the  survival  of  the  fittest, 
animals  will  be  gradually  improved  until  new  species 
are  formed. 

it  is  claimed  by  this  hypothesis  that  the  progress  of 
the  species  will  be  constantly  upwards,  so  that  by  this 
development  continued  through  the  ages  past,  the  low- 
primeval  species  have  been  changed  into  the  higher  or- 
ders until  the  jelly-speck  has  become  the  man. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  grandest  results  are  claimed 
for  this  species  of  Evolution.  From  it  wc  have  all  the 
s;oo,ooo  varied  forms,  shapes  and  sizes,  which  swim  in 
the  water,  fly  in  the  air  and  live  upon  the  land. 

Any  system  or  theory  which  thus  comes  in  to  change 
the  whole  current  of  thought  in  our  race,  should  come 
with  <40od  credentials  and  prove  itself  in  perfect  accord 
with  the  laws  of  nature,  before  it  can  be  admitted  as  s 
principle,  of  science. 

True  Science  is  cautious  and  conservative;  no  de- 
fect can  long  escape  its  probe  and  scalpel.  Very  many 
important  conditions  must  be  fulfilled  before  this  theory 
can  be  accepted  as  the  origin  of  all  the  higher  organic 
beings. 

Among  others  it  must  be  clearly  shown  that  the 
first  animals  were  of  the  lowest  orders;  that  these  were 
followed  by  those  a  little  higher,  and  these  again  by  oth- 


78  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

cr.s  still  higher— up  and  up  b\  minute  gradations  through 
all  the  thousands  and  thousands  of  stages  to  man,  the 
highest  in  the  scale. 

But  the  facts  show  no  such  succession.  There  is 
however  such  an  approximation  to  it,  as  could  give  the 
casual  observer  a  plausible  basis  for  the  Theory  of  De- 
velopment. Some  of  the  lowest  animals  did  appear 
among  the  earliest  forms  of  life;  and  there  was  a  con- 
tinual introduction  of  higher  types  until  man  completed 
the  series.  But  when  we  examine  this  succession  in  its 
details  as  developed  in  the  rock  record  of  all  the  vast 
geological  cycles,  we  find  thousands  of  stubborn  facts, 
which  utterly  preclude  the  idea  of  such  a  continuous  and 
regular  succession  from  the  lowei  to  the  higher  as  the 
theory  demands. 

A  few  only  of  these  facts  can  be  examined  at  this 
time. 

1ST,  In  this  rising  development  of  the  animal 
kingdom,  we  have  five  very  marked  stages  of  progress, 
each  represented  by  a  sub-kingdom  in  the  classification. 
In  the  Primordial  strata,  the  very  oldest  rocks  known  to 
contain  animal  remains,  we  find  Protozoans,  Radiate*, 
Mollusks  and  Articulates,  representing  four  of  the  live 
sub-kingdoms;  and  these  four  contain  more  than  nine 
tenths  of  all  the  animals  that  have  ever  lived. 

If.  therefore.  Development  be  true,  it  made  a  thou- 
sand fold  more  progress  at  the  very  outset,  when  it  was 
working  upon  microscopic  mites,  than  it  has  since 
through  all  the  vast  cycles  of  the  Silurian,  Devonian, 
Carboniferous,  Reptilian,  Mammalian  and  Human  ages. 
This  is  scarcely  credible. 

2nd.  The  theory  demands  a  regular  succession 
from  the  lower  to  the  higher  in  a  continuous  series  both 
in  time  and  grade.     But  the  facts  show  this  is  not  so  in  a 


T.ECTURK    OF    PROK.    SWALLOW.  79 

vast  number  of  cases  scattered  through  the  whole  series 
from  the  lowest  to  the  highest.  As  an  illustration, 
Cephalopods,  the  very  highest  order  of  Mollusks  and 
Trilobites  high  among  the  Articulates,  appeared  among 
the  first  animals  and  the  first  fishes  were  much  more 
perfect  than  their  immediate  successors,  and  even  than 
many  now   living. 

If  the  Armor-bearing  fishes  were  developed  into 
the  Salachians  which  succeeded  them,  the  progress  must 
have  been  like  Virgil's  descensus  in  averno,  easy  and 
downward. 

3RD.  Since  this  theory  depends  upon  the  survival 
of  the  fittest  in  the  struggle  for  life,  it  made  a  grand 
mistake  when  it  filled  the  early  seas  with  a  huge  race  of 
mailed  sharks  and  ganoids,  to  be  the  progenitors  of  the 
more  perfect  and  wholly  defenceless  Teliosts. 

Science  has  failed  to  show  how  the  Cod  and  Tur- 
bot  could  be  the  fittest  to  survive  in  the  struggle  for  life 
with  their  proginators  the  Sharks.  There  are  hundreds 
of  similar  impossible  successors. 

4.TH.  Many  animals  and  plants  have  had  no  ances- 
tors and  no  progeny.  Trilobites  had  neither  ancestors 
nor  posterity.  There  was  no  animal  for  them  to  be  de- 
veloped from,  and  they  left  none  to  be  developed  into. 
It  would  take  a  strong  power  to  develop  the  Elephant 
out  of  any  animal  that  lived  before  him.  The  same  is 
true  of  whole  races  of  plants;  as  our  deciduous  trees. 

5TH.  The  theory  demands  not  only  that  the  lowest 
of  any  given  order  should  appear  first,  but  that  the 
highest  of  the  lower  order  should  be  followed  by  the 
lowest  of  the  succeeding  higher  order,  family  or  genus. 
Thus:  if  A,  B,  C  and  D  represent  successive  classes, 
and  the  numbers  i  and  5  represent  the  different  orders  in 
these   classes,  the  theory  would   demand    a   regular  sue- 


80  UMVKRSITY    OK    MflSSOUKI. 

cession   from    iA   to  5D.     Thus — iA.  2  A,  3 A,  4  A,  >A, 

[•B,  2B,  and  so  on  to  3D.    Btit  in  fact  we  usually  find  the 

lowest  order  of  any  class  preceding  tin'  highest  order  of 

the  lower  cla-s,  thus: 

i.\.  jA,  3A,  4A,  sA, 

rB,  2B,  3B,  4B,  5B, 

iC,  2C,  3C,  +6,  5C, 

it).  2D,  3D,  4D,  5D. 

The  last  arrangement  represents  the  actual  order  of 
progression  from  class  to  class  in  a  vast  number  of  eases; 
as   the    transition    from    the  Mollusks  to  the    Articulates. 

The  Devil  fish  is  the  highest  of  the  Mollusks,  and 
the  Worms  the  lowest  of  the  Articulates.  But  accord- 
ing to  the  Theory,  the  Devil  fish  should  be  both  lower 
than  the  Worm  in  the  scale  of  being,  and  prior  to  it  in 
point  of  time;  whereas  he  is  just  the  contrary  in  both 
respects.  The  Worms  were  among  the  earliest  animals, 
and  the  Devil  fish,  among  the  latest.  And  yet  the 
Devil  fish  must  violate  all  sense  of  propriety  and  all 
order  of  time  to  make  the  theory  good.  He  must  per- 
form the  double  miracle  of  transforming  his  magnificent 
proportions — a  body  as  large  as  a  steamer's  boiler,  and 
arms  as  long  as  the  jack-stall",  into  a  puny  mud-worm*, 
who  lived  millions  of  years  before  his  ancestors,  the 
Devil-fishes,  were  horn. 

So  often  is  this  arrangement  true,  that  h  becomes 
the  rule  rather  than  the  exception,  and  appears  to  be  an 
insuperable  objection  to  the  theory. 

Many  of  the  changes  demanded  by  Evolution  are 
so  supremely  preposterous  as  to  provoke  a  smile  and 
leave  the  conviction  ot  utter  impossibility.  The  highest 
Articulate  is  a  tiny  insect,  and  the  first  Vertebrate,  the 
next  in  order  of  the  grade,  was  a  huge  fish  covered  with 
a  thick  coat  of  mail.  Could  you  see  the  earliest  fish  ever 
found  on  this  continent    as   nature   embalmed   him  in  the 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.  SWALLOW.  81 

rocks  of  Indiana,  side  by  side  with  his  insect  ancestor, 
you  would  think  it  would  require  about  as  much  of  a 
miracle  to  develop  the  fish  Irom  such  an  ancestor  as  it 
would  to  make  him  from  the  dust, 

6th.  If  all  plants  and  animals  have  been  born  of 
development,  there  ought  to  be  some  proof  of  such 
changes  within  the  5,000  or  6,000  years  of  the  Historical 
Period.  But  there  is  no  record,  no  proof,  no  claim  that 
a  single  species  has  been  produced  in  these  long  ages. 
Some  have  become  extinct;  but  none  have  been  added 
even  by  man's  aid.  We  are  reminded  of  many  changes 
producing  varieties;  but  of  none  that  claim  the  distinc- 
tion and  permanence  of  species.  And  besides,  nearly  all 
the  important  variations  have  been  produced  by  man  in 
the  domestic  state. 

The  variations  of  the  domestic  pigeons  are  perhaps 
the  most  marked,  and  Mr.  Darwin  has  made  them 
most  prominent.  Still  the  extreme  varieties  are  fertile 
among  themselves,  and  their  progeny  show  marks  of  the 
original  stock,  and  a  disposition  to  return  to  the  Rock- 
Dove. 

We  arc  also  referred  to  the  Berkshire  as  a  great 
improvement  on  the  wild  boar,  and  the  Spanish  Merino 
on  the  wild  sheep.  But  there  is  about  as  much  proot 
that  the  Hydraulic  Ram  is  the  result  of  development  as 
there  is  that  the  Spanish  Merino  comes  from  a  survival 
of  the  fittest  in  a  region  populated  with  bears  and  wolves 
and  hyenas  and  lions. 

But  what  claim  has  the  Berkshire  to  superiority  as 
the  fittest  to  survive?  Fat.  Yes,  fat  brings  more  dol- 
lars and  cents!  but  dollars  and  cents  do  not  mark  the 
scale  of  superiority  among  animals.  If  fat  makes  perfect, 
then  the  opossum  is  superior  to  the  squirrel,  the  hog  to 
•the  horse,  and  the  African  to  the  Caucassian. 


82  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

ll\  however,  the  Berkshire  is  a  fair  sample  ol  devel- 
opment, he  should  be  able  to  survive  in  an  open,  struggle 
for  life  with  his  undeveloped  ancestor.  The  test  is 
easily  made.  Turn  your  Berkshires  into  the  forest  with 
the  wild  hogs;  place  them  together  lor  the  struggle  in 
the  same  arena  where  the  survival  of  the  fittest,  accord- 
ing to  the  Theory,  has  won  so  many  victories  in  produc- 
ing so  many  thousand  new  animals.  No  one  can  doubt 
the  result.  If  the  Berkshire  survives  at  all,  it  is  because 
he  will  lose  what  makes  him  a  Berkshire,  because  he 
becomes  a  wild   hog,  as  many  a  fat  pig   has  done  before. 

This  trial  was  made  under  the  most  favoroble  cir- 
cumstances during  the  late  war.  By  Order  Number  11, 
Berkshires,  Chester  Whites,  Poland  Chinas,  and  Racers 
were  turned  out  to  struggle  for  life  in  our  western  coun- 
ties. A  few  years  after  I  was  surveying  that  country 
and  saw  many  of  these  hogs  and  their  descendents.  Bui 
few  indications  of  the  improved  breeds  remained,  and 
the  younger  specimens  bore  decided  marks  of  lapsing  to 
the  original  type.  And  this  is  what  we  should  expect 
from  the  very  laws  of  life. 

There  are  volumes  of  facts  to  show  that  horses, 
oxen,  dogs  and  hogs,  riming  wild,  gradually  lose  all 
domestic  variation  and  assume  a  uniformity  of  color,  size, 
and  structure  supposed  to  be,  and  in  some  cases  known 
to  be,  like  the  primitive  wild  stocks. 

This  is  clearly  shown  by  the  wild  horses  of  Tarta- 
ry  and  in  a  less  degree  by  the  wild  horses  of  the  Falk- 
land Islands  and  South  America,  and  the  semi- wild 
herds  of  the  North  American  Indians.  The  wild  horses 
of  America  have  changed  less  as  the)'  have  been  in  a 
wild  state  a  much  shorter  time. 

But  the  variations  in  domestic  animals  are  much  less 


LECTURE   OF    PROF.   SWALLOW.  83 

than  would  be  at  first  thought  supposed.  Those  which 
are  at  all  marked,  are  confined  to  a  few  species:  while 
the  others  have  scarcely  changed  at  all  for  many  thou- 
sand years.  Many  figures  and  embalmed  specimens  of 
our  domestic  animals  and  plants,  have  come  down  to  us 
from  the  ancient  nations  of  Mesopotamia  and  Egypt 
which  shows  that  their  living  descendents  have  made  no 
material  progress  for  the  last  forty  or  fifty  centuries. 
We  also  have  still  more  ancient  proofs  of  this  perma- 
nence of  type  in  the  domestic  animals  and  plants  from 
the  nuns  of  the  Swiss  Lake  dwellings,  and  the  Danish 
Shell-heaps,  and  the  Cave-dwellers  of  Central  Europe. 

Should  it  he  even  admitted  that  domestication  has 
produced  new  species,  the  tact  would  scarcely  make  the 
evolution  by  natural  selection  possible;  since  there  is  so 
little  analogy  between  the  possibilities  of  the  domestic 
and  wild  states.  You  might  as  well  attempt  to  prove 
that  our  native  Crab-apple  was  developed  from  the  flaw, 
because  man  can  grow  Bellflowers  on  the  domesticated 
Siberian  Crab;  as  to  prove  the  horse  was  developed 
from  the  ass,  because  the  carrier  pigeon  is  the  progeny 
of  the  wild  Rock-dove. 

This  difference  of  possibilities  between  the  wild  and 
domestic  state,  is  well  shown  in  the  hog  and  pigeon. 
Great  as  are  the  changes  produced  in  the  domestic  hog 
and  pigeon,  it  is  known  that  their  wild  representatives 
have  made  no  perceptible  changes  since  the  flood,  either 
by  natural  -election  or  by  the  survival  of  the  fittest. 

If  then  we  would  measure  the  probabilities  of  form- 
ing new  spCCies  by  natural  selection,  our  illustrations 
must  come  from  the  natural  or  wild  state;  since  that  is 
the  only  state  where  natural  selection  can  act,  and  the 
only  place  where  species-  have  been  formed,  if  formed  at 
all,  by  natural  powers. 


84  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

We  must,  therefore,  held  the  changes  produced  by 
man  in  domestication,  of  little  value  in  this  discussion. 

yTH.  But  every  one  of  the  numerous  breaks  in  the 
series  of  animals,  has  a  significance  of  the  highest  value 
in  this  relation,  since  each  and  every  one  of  them  must 
prove  fatal  to  evolution.  For  Pope's  couplet  is  em- 
phatically and  literally  true  here: 

"From  nature's  chain  whatever  link  3011  strike. 
Tenth  or  tenthousandth,  breaks  the  chain  alike. " 

And  yet  there  are  hundreds  of  thousands  of  these 
breaks,  missing  links,  impassable  gnlfs,  over  which 
science  has  found  no  bridge. 

But  it  is  said  the  missing  links  are  buried  in  the 
Geological  Records.  This  is  a  delusion;  for  Geology  is 
the  most  unhealthy  place  for  Darwinism  imaginable. 

To  illustrate:  let  us  examine  one  only  of  these  many 
thousand  breaks  in  the  succession;  and  let  us  take  one 
with  which  all  are  familiar,  and  one  that  presents  the 
fewest  difficulties  to  the  progress  of  evolution — the  link 
between  the  monkey  and  man  in  its  physical  aspects. 

All  admit  there  is  a  break  between  the  man  and  the 
monkey,  as  they  now  exist,  which  must  be  filled  by  a 
series  of  beings  gradient  by  small  steps  of  progress  from 
the  monkey  to  the  man.  These  gradient  beings  must 
have  been  very  numerous  and  of  too  remarkable  a  char- 
acter to  be  over  looked  if  now  living,  or  for  their  re- 
mains to  be  lost,  it  thev  ever  did  live. 

(a.)  It  is  very  remarkable  that  all  these  gradient  an- 
imals, which  connected  these  two  living  races,  and  by 
which  the  monkey  was  develojDed  into  man,  should  have 
utterly  perished.  All  the  gradients,  all  the  links  be- 
tween the  Carrier  Pigeon  and  the  Tumbler,  and  those 
between  the  Bull-dog  and  the  Grey-hound,  are  still  liv- 


LECTURE    OK    PROF.  SWALLOW.  86 

ing  and  more  numerous  than,  ever  before.  Will  some 
Darwinian  tell  ns  why  all  of  man's  nearest,  and  best  an- 
cestors have  become  extinct,  while  the  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands more  remote  and  less  desirable,  still  live  like  poor 
relations  to  remind  ns  that  we  are  something  worse  than 
mortal  ? 

If  these  gradient  animals  between  the  man  and  the 
monkey  were  fitter  to  live  than  the  monkey,  as  the 
Theory  of  Evolution  implies,  why  have  they  all  perish- 
ed while  so  many  monkeys  live? 

(b.)  Men  and  monkeys  have  lived  together  upon  the 
earth  ever  since  the  origin  of  man,  sometime  in  the  Drift 
Period,  which  evolutionists  say  was  300,000  years  ago; 
and  the  monkey  came  into  being  in  the  Eocene,  the 
dawn  of  the  vast  cycles  of  the  Tertiary.  This  surely 
gives  us  time  enough  to  test  the  theory. 

The  monkeys  have  left  their  remains,  recording 
their  history  in  all  the  rocks  of  these  vast  cycles  and  in 
all  the  continents,  in  Asia,  Africa,  North  and  South 
America  and  in  Europe.  Their  history  has  been  tolera- 
bly well  written   up. 

Man  has  lived  in  Europe  since  the  Drift  Period,  in 
Asia  and  Africa  probably  as  long,  and  in  America  near- 
ly as  long.  He  lias  buried  his  hones  and  scattered  with 
free  hand  hi-  implements,  his  carvings,  his  monuments, 
his  temples,  hi-  dwellings,  his  traditions,  and  his  books 
all  along  the  ages  ami  all  over  the  world.  From  these 
abundant  material.-,  man's  history  too  is  pretty  well 
made  up. 

Man  lias  searched  with  untiring  zeal  for  all  that  is 
new  and  old;  he  lias  desecrated  tombs  and  temples  to 
lay  open  their  mysteries;  he  has  exhumed  ancient  cities 
— Hereulaneum,  Troy  and  Ninevah  give  up  their  hoary 
records   -he  has,  also,  fished  up  from  the  depths  of  Swiss 


86  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

lakes  the  remains  of  their  ancient  Lake  Dwellers;  un- 
earthed the  Mound-Builders  and  Aztects  of  America; 
dug  up  I  he  Cave-dwellers  of  Europe;  and  searched  all 
the  rocks  these  hundred  years;  and  vet  he  has  not  found 
a  mark  nor  a  fragment  to  show  there  ever  were  any 
beings  between  the  man  and  the  monkey,  that  man  was 
ever  any  more  like  a  monkey  than  he  now  is,  or  that 
the  monkey  was  ever  more  of  a  man  than  now. 

The  embalmed  men  and  monkeys  of  the  Egyptian 
tombs,  are  the  same  as  the  living  men  and  monkeys,  no 
nearer  together,  no  farther  apart. 

The  still  more  ancient  traditions  and  mythologies 
make  the  most  ancient  men  heroes  and  demi-gods,  quite 
as  perfect  as  we  are. 

Of  the  pre-historic  man,  the  most  ancient  relic  found 
in  Europe  about  which  there  can  he  no  doubt  or  dispute, 
is  the  Engis  Skull.  Of  this  skull,  Prof.  Huxley  says: 
"It  is  a  fail-  human  skull.'" 

The  oldest  skull  found  in  America  about  which 
there  can  lie  no  question  of  origin,  is  the  New  Madrid 
skull,  which  is  a  fair  Caucassian  skull.  It  might  have 
been  of  a  Hebe  or  of  an  Eve. 

We  also  have  ancient  skulls  of  a  lower  type;  but 
none  lower  than  the  skulls  of  some  living  men. 

The  history  of  the  monkey  shows  that  he  is  no 
nearer  a  man  now  than  he  was  :ii  the  beginning.  The 
rocks  show  n<>  intervening  varieties. 

We  must  conclude,  therefore,  that  the  wide  chasm 
between  the  physical  structure  of  the  man  and  the  mon- 
key is  not  and  never  has  been  tilled;  and  that  there  is  no 
evidence  whatever  making  it  physically  possible  to  de- 
rive  man  from  the  monkey. 

III.       EMBRYOLOGY. 

Hut  one  of  the  most  plausible  arguments  of  the  By- 


nFCTURK    OF    PROF.  S\VAIJ,OW.  87 

olutionists,  is  drawn  from  Embryology.  The  embryos 
of  the  higher  animals  resemble  the  embryos  of  the  lower 
ones  in  the  early  stages  of  development;  therefore,  the 
higher  animals  arc  developed  from  the  lower.  As  the 
embryo  of  a  man  is  like  a  fish  at  one  stage  of  its  devel- 
opment, so  man  was  developed  from  a  fish. 

But  Agassiz,  who  had  studied  Embryology  more 
thouroughly  than  any  man  living  or  dead,  said  this  argu- 
ment had  no  valid  foundation.  No  embryo  has  produced 
a  being  either  above  or  below  the  parental  species. 
Prof.  Virchow,  the  best  living  authority,  bears  the  same 
testimony  as  Agassi/. 

IV.       THE    OKIGTN    <>1      THINGS. 

But  if  all  other  difficulties  were  removed,  it  there 
were  a  complete  series  of  animals  from  the  lowest  to  the 
highest — all  having  such  close  affinities  that  each  could 
be  traced  to  its  ancestral  species,  there  would  still  remain 
three  insuperable  objections  to  Evolution  as  a  system  of 
nature. 

rst.  It  does  not  account  for  the  Star-Dust,  the  orig- 
inal matter  from  which  the  worlds  were  evolved. 

Development  is  the  evolving  of  something  out  of 
something  else,  or  some  other  thing.  Hence  Develop- 
ment cannot  evolve  something  out  of  nothing,  or  the 
original  matter  of  the  worlds  out  of  nothing. 

And,  besides,  Development  acts  by  the  laws  of  na- 
ture and  by  these  laws  only.  But  these  laws  are  mere 
properties  of  matter,  inherent  in  and  dependent  upon 
matter  for  their  powers  of  action,  and  for  their  very  ex- 
istence. These  laws,  therefore,  or  Development  acting 
by  them,  cannot  originate  the  matter  of  which  they  are 
the  mere  properties. 

Science  clearly   indicates   a   first    cause,  which  must 


88  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

be  without  and  superior  to  nature.  Science  too  as  such., 
must  accept  whatever  first  cause  best  meets  and  explains 
all  facts  and  conditions  of  the  natural  world,  whatever 
first  cause  is  in  best  accord  with  science  itself,  or  the 
laws  of  nature . 

Several  theories  of  the  origin  of  the  material  world, 
have  been  proposed.  But  that  promulgated  more  than 
35°°  >'ears  ag°  by  one  Moses,  a  learned  Egyptian,  de- 
clares the  first  cause  to  be  a  supreme  being,  immortal, 
invisible,  all-wise,  benevolent,  and  the  Creator  of  all 
things. 

Scientists  have  generally  accepted  the  Mosaic 
Theory,  as  in  best  accord  with  the  teachings  of  science 
itself.  It  is  true  that  men  love  to  hear  and  believe  .some- 
thing new  and  strange;  but  neither  common  sense  nor 
science  will  give  up  this  theory  of  a  Creator  until  some- 
thing better  is  proposed.  You  might  as  well  expect  the 
passengers  of  an  ocean  steamer  to  give  up  their  good 
ship  in  mid  ocean  and  take  passage  in  a  leaky  skiff,  as  to 
give  up  the  Mosaic  Creator  for  Evolution. 

2nd.  Evolution  gives  no  solution  of  the  origin  of 
life  and  the  peculiar  structure  of  Organic  Beings. 

Science  has  clearly  shown  there  was  a  time  when 
neither  plant  nor  animal  existed  on  the  earth;  when 
there  was  nothing  but  inorganic  matter,  dust  and   rocks. 

There  were  no  laws  governing  life  and  living  be- 
ings; for  there  were  no  life  and  living  beings  to  be  gov- 
erned. 

But  in  the  progress  of  events,  plants  and  animals 
appeared  upon  the  earth,  and  with  them  the  laws,  such 
as  digestion  and  assimilation,  which  control  organic  be- 
ings. 

Several  theories   have  been   proposed  to  account  for 


LBCTURE    OF    PROF.    SWALLOW.  85* 

the  origin  of  living  things.  Among  others  we  have  had 
Spontaneous  Generation,  the  Fortuitous  Concourse  of 
Atoms,  and  Evolution.  Which  of  these  is  most  plausi- 
ble, I  am  unable  to  tell.  And  it  would  be  difficult  to 
say  in  what  they  differ. 

But  none  of  them  are  known  in  nature;  and  science 
has  as  clearly  proved  them  impossible,  as  it  is  possible  to 
prove  a  negative,  by  showing  that  all  living  things  come 
from  eggs  and  that  all  eggs  are  produced  by  living  be- 
ings. So  certain  arc  we  of  this  that  our  laws  and  juris- 
prudence are  based  upon  it.  Upon  its  certainty  we  im- 
prison and  hang  men  and  women.  In  short  we  hold 
this  scientific  principle  more  sacred  than  we  do  proper- 
ty, character  and  life  itself. 

How  then  can  we  believe  in  spontaneous  genera- 
tion? in  the  Evolution  of  animals? 

It  is  quite  certain  that  Evolution  cannot  produce 
living  things;  for  in  them  we  find  life,  and  new  laws  so 
strong  as  to  overcome  the  pre-existing  laws.  The  laws 
which  raise  up  the  oak  and  the  elephant,  overcome  grav- 
ity and  inertia;  and  those  which  form  sugar,  starch, 
blood  and  muscle,  overcome  pre-existing  affinities. 

Evolution  can  only  transform,  and  there  was  noth- 
ing in  nature  to  be  transformed  into  life. 

But  it  is  said  Evolution  works  through  the  laws  of 
nature.  But  no  facts,  no  science,  has  shown  that  one 
law  can  produce  another  law  superior  to  itself. 

It  is  therefore  utterly  impossible  for  the  Evolution 
Theory  to  account  for  the  origin  of  organic  beings,  and 
the  laws  of  life. 

Here  again,  the  Mosaic  Theory  is  the  only  one  yet 
proposed,  able  to  solve  this  problem  of  the  origin  of  liv- 
ing beings.  The  Supreme  Being  of  this  Theory,  has 
the  power,  the  wisdom  and  benevolence  to  give  the  life 


90  UNIVERSITY    OK   MISSOURI. 

and  the  superior  laws  of  organic  beings.  And  there  are 
no  facts,  no  science,  which  militate  against  this  Theory 
of  Creation,  though  promulgated  3000  years  before  the 
rise  of  modern  science. 

If  on  the  morrow,  we  should  lind  new  houses  and 
cities  springing  up  all  over  our  prairies,  houses  not  made 
with  hands  or  any  other  known  power;  if  we  should 
see  the  soil  rise  up  into  the  houses  and  form  itself  into 
foundation  ashlers  harder  than  adament  and  more  beau- 
tiful than  rubies;  the  clay  rise  and  form  itself  into  bricks 
in  the  wall,  more  delicate  than  opal,  and  the  sand  into 
windows  as  clear  and  sparkling  as  diamonds — all  form- 
ing houses  more  gorgeous  and  brilliant  than  the  palaces 
of  the  Arabian  Nights;  if  we  should  see  cars  rolling 
through  the  mid  heavens  without  track  or  engine,  but 
self-poised  and  self-impelled,  and  leaving  trails  as  bright 
as  rainbows;  if  on  the  morrow  we  should  see  for  the 
first  time  such  wonderful  beings  with  power  to  multiply 
themselves  indefinitely,  would  we  say  they  had  sprung 
spontaneous  from  the  earth?  that  they  had  been  produc- 
ed by  Development?  or  rather,  would  we  not  say  they 
are  the  work  of  some  supernatural  power?  that  they  are 
the  creatures  of  the  .Supreme  Being  of  the  Mosaic 
Theory  ? 

Should  such  new  and  wonderful  beings  appear,  it 
would  not  he  so  strange  as  the  first  animal-  and  plants 
were.  Man  might  think  he  could  build  a  house;  but 
none  save  Drs.  Crosse  and  Sebastian,  would  undertake 
to  make  the  oak  or  the  elephant. 

3rd.  We  find  in  man,  in  all  men  everywhere,  a 
strong  mate  apprehension  of  some  external  invisible 
power,  which,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  moulds  our 
destinies  and  metes  out  to  us  the  good  and  evil  of  life; 
whose  anger,  therefore,  all  deprecate  with  sacrifices,  and 


LKOTURK   OP    PROF.   SWALLOW.  91 

whose  favor  all  propitiate  with  prayers  and  vows. 
Some  call  this  universal  clement  of  man's  nature  by  one 
name,  some  by  another.  Comte  calls  it  Superstition, 
Virgil,  Piety;  Sir  Humphrey  Davy  and  Dr.  Carpenter 
call  it  Religion. 

Call  it  what  you  will,  no  animal  but  man  has  it. 
No  animal  but  man,  has  a  moral  nature,  knows  right 
from  wrong,  repents,  prays,  sacrifices.  No  monkey  has 
superstition  or  religion;  no  brute  fears  or  loves  the  un- 
known powers,  whether  they  be  gods  or  demons. 

Hence  there  is  nothing  in  the  brute  that  can  be  de- 
veloped into  man's  religious  nature.  You  might  per- 
haps develop  a  monkey  out  of  his  tail,  and  make  him 
stand  erect;  his  posterior  hands  may  be  transformed  into 
those  beautiful  things  concealed  in  No.  2  gaiters;  the 
teeth  and  facial  angle  changed;  the  diabolical  grin, 
transformed  into  the  ineffable  smile  of  a  mother's  love; 
yea,  and  that  tongue,  taught  to  utter  the  words  of  affec- 
tion, fidelity  and  truth;  while  we  admit  the  possibility, 
but  not  the  probability  of  these  wonderful  changes,  we 
most  positively  declare  that  science  has  shown  no  fact, 
developed  no  principles,  indicating  the  possibility  of  de- 
riving man's  moral  and  religious  natures  from  any  intel- 
lectual power  of  any  brute. 

But  the  Theory  of  Moses  recognizes  and  provides 
for  this  higher  nature  of  man.  "God  breathed  into  his 
nostrils  the  breath  of  life,  and  man  became  a  living  soul" 
an  "Image  of  God." 

Thus  Moses  places  man  infinitely  above  all  other 
animals,  gives  him  a  brotherhood  with  angels,  and  a  son- 
ship  in  Deity. 

Shall  we  then  give  up  this  Creation  of  Moses, 
which  thus  elevates  us  and   unites  our  destinies  with  the 


92  UNIVKRSITY   OF    MISSOTJKI. 

infinite,  for  this  Evolution  of  Darwin,  that  links  us  to 
the  worm,  gives  us  a  sonship  in  the  monkey  and  binds 
us  to  the  beasts  that  perish? 

As  a  christian  student  of  science,  I  protest.  In  the 
name  of  all  the  splendid  achievements  and  utilities  of 
science,  in  the  name  of  all  the  grandeur  of  moral  truths 
and  all  the  sublime  hopes  of  immortality,  I  am  compell- 
ed to  protest  against  such   a  sale  of  man's  birth-right. 


INSECT  WAYS. 


By  Samuel  M.  Tracy,  M.  S.,  Professor  of  En- 
tomology and  Economic  Botany  and  Superin- 
tendent of  Gardens. 

In  the  "Poet  at  the  Breakfast  Table"  Oliver  Wen- 
dell Holmes  tells  us  of  a  man  who  had  devoted  his  whole 
life  to  the  study  of  one  group  of  insects,  the  Scarabeans, 
and  the  height  of  whose  ambition  was  to  be  known  to 
the  world  as  a  Scarabeist,  to  be  an  acknowledged  au- 
thority on  that  one  family  of  beetles.  Clinging  to  the 
body  of  the  common  bumble-bee  is  frequently  found  a 
little  beetle  not  more  than  a  sixteenth  of  an  inch  in 
length,  and  to  determine  whether  this  insect  was  a  true 
parasite,  or  simply  attached  itself  to  the  bee  in  order  to 
be  carried  to  the  nest,  there  to  live  on  the  food  stored  up 
by  the  bee,  was  a  question  to  which  this  man  had  given 
the  best  years  of  his  life. 

It  may  be  questioned  whether  it  is  wise  for  a  person 
to  devote  a  whole  life  to  the  solution  of  a  problem  which 
is  comparatively  of  so  little  practical  or  scientific  import- 
ance, but  it  is  undoubtedly  true  that  a  more  intimate  ac- 
quaintance with  insect  life  andinsect  ways  would  be  of 
far  more  value  to  us  than  is  usually  estimated,  and  would 
amply  repay  a  greater  amount  of  study  than  is  generally 
given  to  other  branches  of  Natural  History. 

The  weather  is  a  universal  topic  of  conversation; 
not  a  daily  paper  do  we  read  without  seeing  reports  and 


94  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

predictions  concerning  the  weather  in  different  parts  of 
the  country.  The  United  States  government  has  estab- 
lished stations  at  all  important  places  where  daily  signals 
are  shown  indicating  the  approach  of  storms  or  of 
pleasant  weather.  During  the  past  month  the  papers 
have  been  full  of  reports  of  the  injury  done  to  the 
fruit  trees  by  the  severe  cold  of  the  past-  winter. 
Last  summer  there  was  a  universal  cry  of  drouth 
from  Texas  to  Minnesota,  and  not  a  season  passes 
in  which  some  portion  of  our  country  is  not  so  del- 
uged with  rain  as  to  render  travel  almost  impossible 
and  the  farmer's  labor  fruitless.  Violent  wind  and 
excessive  rain,  severe  cold  and  long  continued  drouth, 
notwithstanding  the  fact  that  they  rank  in  popular 
opinion  as  the  vicegerents  of  the  Almighty  in  fixing 
upon  man  the  primal  curse,  "By  the  sweat  of  thy  face 
shalt  thou  eat  bread"  do  not,  even  with  their  combined 
forces,  entail  upon  us  as  much  labor  and  loss  as  do  the 
insignificant  and  often  unnoticed  insects  which  are  to  be 
found  almost  wherever  we  will  take  the  trouble  to  look 
for  them. 

Were  il  not  for  our  insect  foes  the  products  of  the 
soil  would  be  nearly  or  quite  doubled  annually.  There  is 
not  a  crop  to  which  the  farmer  can  devote  his  attention 
which  is  not  invariably  injured  to  a  greater  or  less  extent 
by  these  almost  invisible  foes,  and  often  the  greatest  care 
and  the  most  unremitting  vigilance  cannot  save  his 
property  from  utter  destruction.  Wheat  suffers  from 
the  chinch  bug,  the  Hessian  fly  and  the  weevil,  corn  from 
the  white  grub  and  the  corn  worm,  potatoes  from  the 
wireworm,  the  potato  beetle  and  the  blister  beetle,  the 
grape  from  the  phylloxera,  the  apple  from  the  codling 
moth  and  the  borer,  the  peach  from  the  borer  and  the 
CUrcullO.  the  latter  of  these  insects  having  made  a  perfect 


LECTURE  OF    PROF.  TRACY.  95 

peach  an  unusual  sight  in  some  districts,  besides  taking 
the  plum  from  the  list  of  our  common  fruits  and  making- 
it  a  great  rarity.  While  these  and  many  other  injurious 
insects  confine  themselves  to  certain  plants  which  are 
their  natural  fond  and  so  may  he  in  a  manner  controlled 
and  mastered,  we  have  still  to  contend  with  the  army 
worm  and  the  grasshopper  which  devour  every  green 
thip.LT  which  grows  in  their  path. 

Is  it  not  then  worth  our  while  to  give  some  time 
and  attention  to  the  study  of  a  form  of  life  which  exerts 
such  a  powerful  influence  upon  our  prosperity  as  indi- 
viduals and  as  a  nation;  Yet  so  limited  is  the  popular 
information  regarding  insects  that  many  who  suffer  most 
from  their  ravages  fail  to  recognize  their  enemies  at 
sight.  Even  the  common  white  grub  worm  of  our  gar- 
dens is  rarely  known  for  its  true  self,  the  next  summer's 
June  hug,  and  the  wrigglers  so  abundant  in  stagnant 
rainwater  and  shallow  ponds  do  not  always  receive  the 
honors  to  which  the  musical  mosquito  is  justly  entitled. 
These  are  two  insects  which  are  among  the  most  com- 
mon, and  with  which  we  all  feel  quite  too  intimately  ac- 
quainted, yet  close  attention  and  some  knowledge  of 
scientific  Entomology  is  necessary  to  make  it  easy  to  see 
the  relation  between  their  early  incompleteness,  and  their 
later  perfect  development.  We  almost  need  to  see  the 
shining  beetle  emerging  from  his  underground  home, 
and  the  mosquito  using  his  discarded  wriggler  shell  as  a 
support  for  his  new  long  legs  as  he  plumes  his  newlv 
found  wings  for  his  first  aerial  voyage,  to  he  sure  that 
the  hooks  are  not  wrong  about  it  after  all. 

For  developing  powers  of  exact  observation,  close 
watchfulness  and  attention  to  minute  details,  no  branch 
of  Natural  History  is  more  valuable  than  the  stud}'  of 
insect  iife  and  ways.     No  where  else  do  we  tind  such  an 


96  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

infinitude  of  forms  and  at  f:he  same  time  Mich  a  general 
conformity  to  a  very  few  leading  types;  nowhere  else 
do  we  find  organized  beings  passing  through  such  a 
series  of  what  might  be  called  successive  lives,  and  in 
each  life  assuming  bodies  varying  so  widely  that  the 
future  form  can  never  be  predicted  from  the  present  one. 

The  earliest  form  of  insect  life  is  the  same  as  the 
earliest  form  of  all  other  animal  life,  and  egg,  but  here 
all  resemblance  ends,  for  the  moment  the  egg  is  hatched 
the  insect  differs  from  all  other  animals  as  widely  as  does 
the  bird  from  the  fish. 

The  eggs  of  all  insects  are  minute,  and  the  beings 
which  are  hatched  from  them  are  correspondingly 
small.  Usually  the  product  of  the  egg  is  a  small  worm- 
like creature,  provided  with  a  head  and  mouth  and  six 
legs  under  the  forward  part  of  its  long  hod  v.  Some- 
times, but  not  always,  this  worm,  caterpillar,  grub  or 
larva  is  also  provided  with  eyes,  small  hairlike  feelers, 
and  several  pairs  of  short  wart-like  legs  to  assist  in  carry- 
ing the  bulky  hinder  part  of  its  body.  Other  larvae  are 
destitute  of  either  eyes  or  legs  and  spend  their  whole 
lives  within  a  few  inches  of  where  they  are  hatched. 

The  one  great  object  in  life  for  the  young  larva 
seems  to  be  the  same  as  that  of  manv  animals  of  a  much 
higher  organization— it  lives  to  eat — and  eats,  in  some 
cases,  as  the  larva  of  the  silk  moth,  more  than  its  own 
weight  daily.  Such  a  rapid  consumption  of  food  has  a 
very  natural  tendency  to  an  increase  in  size.  When  we 
were  children  and  our  arms  grew  to  be  too  long  for  our 
sleeves  and  our  increasing  girth  proved  too  severe  a 
strain  on  our  buttons,  parental  care  furnished  us  with 
larger  clothes — but  the  voracious  larva  when  his  skin  is 
too  tight  for  his  daily  dinner,  splits  it  in  the  back  and 
walks  out  clad  in  a  new  garment  grown  to  fit  his  new 


LECTURE  OF    PROF.  TRACY.  97 

development,  and  so  much  more  nearly  ready  for  his 
final  change. 

It  is  during  this  larval  or  wormlike  life  that  by  far 
the  larger  portion  of  the  total  supply  ot  the  food  for  the 
insect  is  consumed  and  assimilated.  Indeed  many  insects 
which,  as  larva?,  ravage  large  tracts  of  country  and  in- 
flict incalculable  damage  are  perfectly  harmless  when 
they  reach  their  mature  form,  taking  no  food  excepting 
perhaps  an  occasional  sip  of  honey  from  the  flower 
which  happens  to  be  their  resting  place,  and  in  a  few  in- 
stances being  quite  unprovided  with  any  means  of  tak- 
ing nourishment.  We  see  this  in  the  army  worm  which 
sometimes  takes  its  course  over  a  whole  state  destroying 
everything  in  its  way  as  completely  as  if  the  country 
had  been  swept  by  fire.  When  this  insect  reaches  its 
adult  or  perfect  form  it  is  an  innocent  dusky  brown 
moth,  which  never  causes  the  slightest  harm  to  any 
plant.  I  may  mention  here  that  although  the  army 
worm  has  been  known  and  dreaded  ever  since  the  first 
settlement  of  the  country,  to  this  day  no  man  knoweth 
whence  they  come  or  whither  they  go.  They  appear  in 
vast  armies,  devastate  a  track  of  country  and  then  disap- 
pear as  suddenly  and  mysteriously  as  they  came.  En- 
tomologists have  captured  the  worms  and  kept  them  in 
confinement  until  they  passed  through  their  various 
changes  and  were  transformed  into  moths,  but  with  all 
the  study  and  watchfulness  which  have  been  devoted  to 
the  subject  it  is  not  known  when  or  where  the  eggs  are 
laid  which  produce  these  destroying  hordes. 

The  eggs  of  insects  are  almost  invariably  laid  near 
where  the  young  larva  can  find  an  abundance  of  fooa; 
indeed  this  is  an  absolute  necessity,  as,  if  the  newly  hatch- 
ed larva,  often  not  more  than  a  twentieth  of  an  inch  in 
length,  were  compelled   to  travel  any  distance  in  search 


98  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

of  food  if  would  inevitably  perish  from  starvation.  In 
some  instances,  as  with  bees,  the  larva  is  hatched  and 
goes  through  all  its  changes  to  the  form  of  the  perfect 
insect  without  moving  from  the  cell  in  which  the  egg 
was  deposited,  all  its  food  being  brought  to  it  by  the 
mature  bees,  usually  however  when  the  larva  is  fully 
grown  it  is  quite  active  and  frequently  travels  considera- 
ble distances  in  search  of  food. 

This  larval  or  wormlike  stage  of  insect  life  continues 
for  a  variable  length  of  time,  ranging  from  a  few  days  as 
with  the  silk  worm,  to  one  or  two  years,  and  even  long- 
er, as  with  the  17  year  cicada,  which  receives  its  name 
from  the  time  required  for  its  development  from  the  egg 
to  the  perfect  insect. 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  second  stage,  or  what 
might  be  called  the  preparatory  life  of  the  insect,  it 
passes  into  its  third  or  chrysalis  form  in  which  it  bears 
little  more  resemblance  to  a  living  animal  than  does  the 
egg  from  which  it  was  hatched,  and  it  still  gives  little 
promise  of  the  beautiful  moth  or  gaudily-colored  butter- 
fly, which  a  few  weeks  or  months  may  bring  from  it; 
indeed  it  bears  a  much  closer  resemblance  to  the  egg 
than  to  the  mature  insect.  It  is  usually  nearly  round, 
somewhat  pointed  at  each  end,  and  sometimes  a  dim  out- 
line of  the  wings  is  visible  and  two  small  knobs  may  be 
seen  near  one  end  indicating  the  future  position  of  the 
eyes.  The  chrysalis  is  entirely  destitute  of  any  means 
of  locomotion  and  has  no  way  of  taking  food,  in  fact,  the 
only  sign  of  life  it  is  able  to  make  is  by  slightly  bending 
itself  when  disturbed. 

The  changes  from  the  larva  to  the  chrysalis,  and 
from  the  chrysalis  to  the  perfect  form  are  two  of  the 
most  interesting  phases  of  insect  life.  When  the  larva 
feels  old  age  approaching  it  seeks  a  suitable  place,  some- 


LECTURE  OF   PROF.  TRACY.  99 

times  a  branch  of  a  tree,  the  under  side  of  a  board,  a 
crack  in  a  fence,  or,  perhaps,  burrows  into  the  ground. 
There  it  makes  some  sort  of  a  covering  for  itself;  if 
above  ground  and  a  moth  it  usually  spins  a  cocoon  of 
silk,  fastening  the  webs  together  with  a  gum-like  sub- 
stance which  immediately  hardens  on  exposure  to  the 
air.  This  cocoon  often  contains  more  than  a  thousand 
feet  of  silk,  its  color,  strength  and  fineness,  depending 
upon  the  species  of  worm  which  spins  it.  The  cocoon 
of  the  Cecropia,  which  is  our  largest  American  moth, 
and  sometimes  measures  nearly  eight  inches  across  the 
wings,  ma}'  be  frequently  found  attached  to  the  branches 
of  apple  and  plum  trees.  If  these  cocoons  are  gathered 
during  the  winter  and  kept  safely  until  May  or  June  we 
can  easily  watch  the  moth  as  it  bursts  out  into  its  new 
and  perfect  life,  and  leaves  the  silken  walls  that  have 
protected  it  through  the  winter.  For  a  day  or  two  be- 
fore the  moth  emerges  it  may  be  heard  in  its  endeavors 
to  escape,  and  finally  its  head  will  be  seen  peering 
through  an  opening  in  one  end  of  the  cocoon  where  the 
walls  were  simply  glued  together  and  were  not  as  strong 
as  in  other  parts.  The  moth  slowly  emerges,  taking 
perhaps  half  an  hour  for  the  operation,  and  then  it 
stands  upon  the  top  of  its  former  home  drenched  with 
the  fluid  with  which  it  was  abundantly  lubricated  to  as- 
sist it  in  its  escape  from  the  cocoon,  and  weary  with  its 
long  struggle.  The  observer  may  possibly  think  the  in- 
sect deformed,  as,  in  the  place  of  the  gaudy  wings  which 
all  arc  accustomed  to  see,  our  moth  has  only  what  ap- 
pears like  a  bit  of  limp  rag  on  each  side  of  its  body;  but 
wait  until  it  is  rested  and  you  will  see  it  try  to  raise 
th. 'sr  shapeless  wings,  again  it  tries,  and  again,  with  no 
better  success,  but  with  each  effort  its  w  ings  have  in- 
creased in   size  and  begin  to  assume  their  natural   form. 


100  UNIVERSITY    Oh    MISSOURI. 

The  moth  continues  its  efforts  and  as  the  wings  expand 
and  dry,  we  begin  to  see  the  beautiful  designs  of  the 
colors  with  which  it  is  adorned.  In  the  course  of  an- 
other half  hour  our  moth  is  ready  to  fly — unless  we  pre- 
vent it  by  a  few  drops  of  benzine  applied  to  its  abdo- 
men to  stop  its  breathing  and  so  kill  it.  It  will  be  much 
safer  to  keep  the  cocoon  in  a  box  covered  with  mosquito 
netting  or  otherwise  the  moth  may  make  its  escape  with- 
out our  knowledge. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  cocoon  of  a  moth  because  that 
is  the  largest  and  the  most  readily  observed.  Those  in- 
sects which  build  their  cocoons  by  gluing  together  bits 
of  chips  which  they  have  bored  from  solid  wood,  or 
those  which  descend  into  the  ground  and  there  make  for 
themselves  a  vault-like  earthern  covering,  go  through 
substantially  the  same  changes. 

After  such  a  long  time  of  development  it  would 
seem  that  the  life  of  the  mature  insect  should  be  corres- 
pondingly long.  In  nearly  all  other  animals,  certainly 
among  all  the  higher  animals,  the  period  of  youth  and 
growth  bears  but  a  small  proportion  to  the  whole  life, 
but  among  insects  we  find  this  rule  reversed.  However 
•long  the  larval  life  may  have  been,  the  adult  life  is  al- 
ways very  short,  sometimes  only  a  f.jw  hours,  usually 
but  a  few  days  or  weeks,  and  it  is  very  seldom  indeed 
that  it  reaches  twelve  months.  Most  of  our  moths  live 
but  a  few  days,  and  the  Cicada  which  has  spent  nearly 
seventeen  years  in  preparing  for  active  life  enjoys  this 
life  for  only  a  brief  month.  The  only  object  of  the  ma- 
ture life  seems  to  be  the  laying  of  eggs  to  provide  for 
future  generations,  this  done  the  insect  has  fulfilled  its 
mission  and  is  ready  to  make  room  for  its  successors. 

What  I  have  given  is  a  brief  outline  of  the  life-his- 
tory of  most  insects.     Some  acquiring  their  perfect  form 


LECTURE   OF    PROF.    TRACY.  101 

without  passing  through  all  the  preliminary  stages. 

Doubtless  many  in  my  audience  are  thoroughly  fa- 
miliar with  the  development  of  the  grasshopper,  which 
hatches  from  the  egg  a  true  hopper  and  perfectly  able 
to  travel,  differing  from  the  adult  form  only  in  being 
smaller  and  destitute  of  wings.  The  young  hopper 
sheds  its  skin  frequently,  each  time  increasing  in  size, 
the  first  scale-like  wings  increasing  also  until  in  a  few 
weeks  it  is  fully  grown. 

So  much  of  insect  life  history  has  been  given  be- 
cause a  knowledge  of  this  is  absolutely  necessary  for  an 
understanding  of  many  habits  and  actions  which  would 
otherwise  be  entirely  unaccountable. 

Darwin  assuredly  made  a  great  mistake  when  he  en- 
deavored to  find  the  missing  link  which  should  unite  us 
with  our  unintellcctual  ancestors — the  monkeys.  He 
probably  saw  that  physically  some  men  bore  a  striking 
resemblance  to  some  monkeys,  and  then  jumped  to  the 
conclusion  that  all  men  were  related,  distantly  it  is  true, 
but  still  related  to  monkeys.  He  should  have  remem- 
bered that  mind  is  higher  than  matter,  and  he  should 
have  looked  for  mental  rather  than  for  merely  physical 
resemblances.  We  have  certainly  copied  more  mental 
traits  and  physical  habits  from  insects  than  monkeys 
ever  thought  of  having.  Almost  all  of  our  industries 
•are  copied  from  those  of  our  insect  friends;  while  many 
of  our  mental  and  moral  characteristics  seem  to  be  but  a 
higher  development  of  the  same  qualities  which  may  be 
found  more  or  less  prominent  among  these  so-called 
lower  organizations. 

Here  in  our  University  we  have  a  Department  of 
Engineering,  but  I  venture  to  say  that  even  in  the  Fac- 
ulty of  that  department  there  is  not  one  who  will  claim 
the  necessar)   knowledge,  even  when  aided  by  unlimited 


102  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 

money  and  labor,  for  the  construction  of  such  suspension 
bridges  as  are  built  by  the  spider  alone  and  untaught. 
As  mining'  engineers  insects  rank  far  above  poor  weak 
and  ignorant  mankind.  Ants  have  been  known  to  turn 
broad  rivers,  rivers  so  broad  that  to  turn  the  Atlantic 
ought,  in  comparison,  to  be  an  easy  task  to  us  with  all 
our  scientific  aids.  Who,  among;  our  miners,  will  ever 
attempt  an  excavation  500  miles  in  depth;  but  this  would 
be  no  greater  work  in  proportion  to  our  size  than  is 
often  performed  by  Texas  ants.  Were  we  provided 
with  more  instinctive  wisdom  and  less  acquired  knowl- 
edge we  might,  perhaps,  be  able  to  do  some  great  work 
which  should  rival  those  of  our  insect  teachers.  Some 
insects  are  masons,  as  the  wasp,  whose  six  or  eight- 
roomed  house  of  stone  and  mortar  may  be  found  fast- 
ened to  the  rafters  of  almost  every  old  barn. 

Carpenters  are  almost  as  plentiful  among  insects  as 
among  men,  but  with  this  difference,  that  their  manner 
of  working  is  usually  the  reverse  of  ours:  we  gather 
our  materials  and  place  them  around  the  room,  while 
the  insect  carpenter  bores  out  the  room  and  leaves  the 
walls.  As  paper  makers  (he  wasps  are  decidedly  in  ad- 
vance of  us.  They  manufacture  an  article  which  is  thin, 
light,  durable  and  entirely  waterproof,  paper  of  which 
they  build  houses  to  withstand  the  rain  and  wind  for 
years  and  which  are  more  impervious  to  water  than  are 
our  walls  of  brick  and  stone.  Insects  do  not  paint  the- 
interior  of  their  homes,  but  many  of  them,  nearly  all  of 
them  when  young,  have  their  chambers  hung  with  finer 
tapestry  than  was  ever  wrought  by  human  hands. 

In  mental  characteristics  we  find  a  strong  likeness 
existing  between  ourselves  and  insects.  We  all  know 
the  necessity  of  providing  for  the  future,  of  having 
something  laid  bv    for  a  rainv    dav — do    not  the  ants    set 


I.KCTURK    OF    PROF.  TRACY.  103 

us  the  example?  Do  the  strong  among  us  take  advan- 
tage of  the  weak — many  species  of  ants  capture  smaller 
species  and  keep  them  in  subjection,  depending  entirely 
on  the  attentions  of  their  captives  to  support  their  own 
lives,  which  lives  are  spent  only  in  capturing  fresh  vic- 
tims. Are  we  miserly — the  bee  spends  its  life  in  laying 
up  treasure  largely  in  excess  of  what  it  can  by  any  pos- 
sibilitv  require  for  its  own  use.  Have  we  devout  hypo- 
crites among  u^ — there  is  the  praying  mantis,  an  inno- 
cent looking  leaf-like  insect  which  will  sit  for  hours  with 
its  arms  upraised  to  heaven  in  apparent  supplication  tor 
forgiveness  for  its  many  offences,  but  let  an  unwary  fly 
approach  and  the  praying  is  instantly  changed  to  prey- 
ing of  a  different  kind,  as  the  fly  learns  to  its  sorrow. 

The  pernicious  and  dangerous  habit  of  carrying 
concealed  weapons  was  very  probably  adopted  by  some 
of  our  ancestors  after  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  impose 
upon  a  yellow  jacket. 

Professional  life  seems  to  be  entirely  unknown 
among  insects.  So  far  as  we  can  discover  they  have 
neither  lawyers,  doctors  nor  teachers.  Their  disputes 
are  all  satisfactorily  settled  by  the  duel;  sickness  is  almost 
unknown  and  the   young  are  as  wise  as  the  old. 

Insects  are  not  only  our  teachers,  but  are  often  our 
friends  and  benefactors.1  The  cochineal,  so  extensively 
used  as  a  scarlet  dye,  consists  simply  of  the  dried  bodies 
of  certain  insects.  Our  best  inks  are  manufactured  from 
oak  galls  which  once  formed  the  leafy  home  of  a  gall 
fly.  To  the  bee  we  are  indebted  for  honey  and  for  that 
more  necessary  product,  wax.  The  Bible  speaks  ot 
locusts  and  wild  honey  as  articles  of  food — that  locusts 
form  a  staple  article  of  food  among  some  tribes  of 
American  Indians,  and  during  the  invasions  of  1S74  and 
1875  many  frontier  settlers  were  glad  to  subsist  on  a  diet 


104  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

of  grasshoppers.  One  of  the  leading  restaurateurs  of 
St.  Louis,  under  the  direction  of  our  State  Etomologist, 
Prof.  Riley,  gave  a  large  dinner  where  each  course  con- 
sisted of  grasshoppers  in  some  form.  The  dinner  is  said 
to  have  been  excellent. 

When  walking  in  the  woods  or  fields  we  almost 
never  see  a  dead  bird  although  we  may  see  scores  of 
nests,  and  we  know  that  the  birds  which  have  been 
reared  in  these  nests  indicate  very  closely  the  number 
that  have  died  during  the  year.  The  reason  for  this  is 
very  simple:  the  body  of  a  dead  bird  has  hardly  fallen 
to  the  ground  before  it  is  surrounded  by  a  number  of 
sextons  in  the  form  of  beetles  who  at  once  proceed  to  dig 
a  grave,  lower  the  body  into  it  and  then  cover  it  as  care- 
fully as  though  it  were  the  remains  of  a  loved  one.  But 
this  kind  attention  is  due  only  to  the  maternal  instinct 
which  thus  provides  food  for  the  young  beetles  which 
these  busy  sextons  have  buried   in  this  new-made  grave. 

Even  our  common  house  flies,  which  are  usually  re- 
garded as  unmitigated  nuisances,  play  an  important  part 
in  domestic  economy,  acting  as  scavengers,  clearing  the 
decaying  filth  from  the  most  minute  crevises  and  corners 
where  it  would  be  undetected  by  the  eye  of  the  most 
vigilant  housekeeper,  and  whence  it  could  hardly  be  re- 
moved even  by  the  most  careful  hands.  The  more  neat 
the  housekeeping  the  less  need  lor  these  little  house- 
cleaners,  and,  wiser  in  their  generation  than  many  of  the 
human  race,  they  always  know  where  they  are   wanted. 

Silk  is  an  article  which  is  in  almost  universal  use, 
and  in  many  parts  of  the  world  the  production  of  the  silk 
fiber  is  obtained  by  carefully  unwinding  the  cocoon  made 
by  the  larva  of  a  small  white  moth  which  is  very  nearly 
related  to  the  cecropia  and  lunar  moths,  our  largest 
American  species  and  which  frequently  enter  our  houses 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    TRACY.  105 

on  summer  evenings.  The  eggs  of  this  moth  can  be 
preserved  without  hatching  for  months  by  keeping  them 
cool.  When  the  sericulturist  wishes  them  to  hatch  they 
are  placed  in  a  room  having  a  temperature  of  about  75* 
and  there  they  are  hatched  in  about  five  days.  The 
room  is  usually  provided  with  wide  shelves  about  two 
and  a  half  feet  apart,  and  on  these  shelves  the  worms  are 
reared.  Mosquito  netting  is  covered  with  a  layer  of 
fresh  Mulberry  or  Osage  Orange  leaves  and  is  then 
spread  lightly  over  the  young  worms  which  soon  pass 
upward  through  the  meshes  in  order  to  reach  the  leaves 
- — their  tond.  Fresh  leaves  must  be  supplied  at  least 
twice  each  day  from  this  time  onward.  Each  time  it  is 
supplied  bv  placing  it  on  netting  or  lattice  work  screens 
and  allowing  the  worms  to  leave  their  stale  food  for 
fresher  pastures,  and  enabling  the  cultivator  to  clear  the 
shelves  of  the  dried  leaves  and  litter  which  have  accum- 
ulated. In  about  thirty-five  days  the  worm  spins  its 
cocoon  which  is  composed  of  a  double  thread  of  silk  of 
such  exceeding  fineness  that  more  than  625  miles  of  it 
are  required  for  a  single  ounce.  If  the  moth  is  allowed 
to  mature  the  cocoon  is  ruined,  and  so,  to  secure  the  fibre 
uninjured  the  insect  is  killed  by  subjecting  it  to  heat 
soon  after  it  has  entered  the  chrysalis  state.  For  the 
production  of  an  ounce  of  silk  the  lives  of  fully  3,500 
insects  must  be  sacrificed. 

Sericulture  is  still  in  its  infancy  in  this  country,  but 
interest  in  the  business  is  rapidly  increasing,  and  as  it  can 
be  carried  on  with  but  a  small  amount  of  capital,  and  all 
of  the  work  can  be  performed  by  women  and  children 
unfitted  for  more  laborious  tasks,  it  may  be  hoped  that 
the  time  is  not  far  distant  when  we  shall  raise  our  own 
silk  as  well  as  our  own  cotton. 

Doubtless    every  insect  has   its   use.      Some  one   lias 


106  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

defined  a  weed  as  a  plant  for  which  no  use  has  }  el  been 
discovered  and  our  so  called  noxious  insects  may  be  like 
the  weeds  of  which  we  do  not  know  the  value.  Many 
insects  certainly  seem  to  be  much  more  injurious  than 
valuable,  and  if  a  few  of  these  troublesome  ones  could 
be  annihilated,  so  far  as  we  can  see  the  world  would  be 
much  advantaged  by  their  loss.  Could  mosquitoes  be 
abolished  we  should  hear  very  few  regrets  but  in  some 
inscrutable  way  -hey  mav  be  as  essential  to  health  ;is  are 
the  omnipresent  house  flies.  If  all  insects  are  useful  the 
usefulness  of  many  of  them  is  certainly  given  us  at  a 
very  great  cost.  The  products  of  the  soil  either  directly 
or  indirectly  are  our  only  sources  of  food  and  clothing 
but  in  order  to  harvest  a  crop  of  any  kind  we  must  wage 
a  constant  warfare  with  insects  which  also  depend  upon 
vegetation  for  their  food. 

Wheat  is  our  staple  article  of  food,  but  from  the 
time  the  seed  is  put  into  the  ground  until  it  is  eaten 
swarms  of  insects  hover  over  it  literally  eager  to  take 
the  bread  out  of  our  mouths.  It  has  hardly  made  its  ap- 
pearance above  the  ground  when  the  Hessian  fly  depos- 
its her  eggs  on  the  tender  leaves.  The  eggs  soon  hatch 
and  the  young  larva-  make  their  way  to  the  bottom  of 
the  plant,  there  to  suck  its  juices  and  spend  the  winter. 
The  larvae  mature  and  come  forth  as  flies  early  in  the 
spring  and  deposit  another  set  of  eggs  on  the  leaves  of 
such  plants  as  have  escaped  the  first  attacks,  and  when  it 
is  time  for  the  wheat  to  send  up  its  grain  laden  heads  its 
weak  and  consumptive  look  shows  but  too  plainly  that 
its  life-blood  has  been  sucked  away  bv  these  countless 
vampires.  If  the  Hessian  fly  does  not  destroy  the  crop 
the  chinch  bug  will  frequently  take  possession  of  the 
field  a  few  days  before  harvest  time  and  instead  of  the 
upright   straw   and   well   filled   heads    of  grain    we   rind 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.   TRACY.  107 

only  broken  stems  and  withered  heads  of  chaff.  The 
chinch  bug  may  come  too  late  and  find  that  the  army 
worms  or  grasshoppers  have  already  harvested  the  crop, 
leaving  nothing  but  the  bare  earth  behind  them.  If  the 
wheat  escapes  all  these  dangers  any  one  of  several 
species  of  weevils  may  attack  the  grain.  If  the  crop  is 
safely  harvested  and  threshed  and  stored  in  the  granary, 
still  other  weevils  may  find  it  there  and  soon  leave  noth- 
ing but  empty  shells  in  the  place  of  the  plump  grains. 
Even  if  taken  to  the  mill  and  ground  into  flour  it  will 
be  very  difficult  to  keep  it  for  any  length  of  time  with- 
out having  it  ruined  by  the  attacks  of  the  meal  worm. 
These  are  by  no  means  the  only  insects  which  attack  the 
wheat — the  wheat  beetles,  the  wheat  joint-worm,  the 
wheat  ophis,  the  wheat  midge  and  the  wheat  moth  all 
depend  on  the  wheat  crop  for  their  sustenance;  and  hosts 
of  other  insects  visit  the  wheat  fields  for  an  occasional 
meal. 

Corn  is  used  largely  on  our  tables  and  is  the  staple 
food  for  our  domestic  animals.  The  cut  worm,  the  white 
grub  worm  and  the  wire  worm  attack  its  roots,  the 
army  worm,  the  grasshopper  and  the  chinch  bugs  its 
leaves,  and  several  species  of  weevils  and  moths  the 
grain,  both  when  in  the  field  and  in  the  granary.  So 
too  with  all  other  crops;  none  arc  exempt  from  the  dan- 
ger of  being  entirely  destroyed,  and  seldom  or  never 
does  a  crop  escape  more  or  less  injury  from  insect  depre- 
dations. Trees  are  no  more  exempt  from  such  attacks 
than  are  herbaceous  plants.  During  the  last  two  years 
the  Michigan  lumberman  arc  making  loud  complaints 
that  the  pine  forests  of  that  state  are  being  destroyed  by 
countless  borers,  insects  which  take  their  name  from  the 
manner  in  which  the  larva-  eat  into  or  through  the  tree 
so  as  to  render  the  lumber  useless  for  manufacturing  pur- 


108  UNIVERSITY   OF    MISSOURI. 

poses,  and  often  to  destroy  the  life  of  the  tree.  There 
is  probably  not  a  tree  on  our  campus  which  does  not 
contain  a  number  of  some  species  of  borers.  If  a  tree  is 
vigorous  it  may  withstand  the  attacks  of  these  insects  for 
a  long  time,  but  the  less  vigorous  the  tree  the  more  lia- 
ble it  is  to  attack.  Only  last  week  one  tine  hickory  was 
removed  because  the  borers  had  killed  it,  and  several 
other  large  trees  must  soon  follow. 

Fruit  trees  suffer  severely  from  these  insect  enemies. 
Two  species  of  borers  infest  the  trunk  of  the  apple  tree, 
bark-lice  the  bark,  the  tent  caterpillar  and  the  canker 
worm  the  leaves,  and  in  many  seasons  the  codling  moth 
permits  us  to  gather  almost  none  but  worm-eaten  fruit. 

ft  is  true  that  we  seldom  ha\^  all  of  these  destruc- 
tive insects  to  contend  with  in  any  one  season,  and  tortu- 
nate  it  is  for  us  that  we  do  not.  Some  ot  them  are  with 
us  constantly,  but  owing  to  unfavorable  seasons,  the 
presence  of  other  insects  which  feed  upon  them  or  some 
other  cause,  they  do  but  little  harm  and  pass  unnoticed 
perhaps  for  years,  and  then,  without  apparent  cause, 
multiply  so  rapidly  as  to  defy  computation. 

Other  species  seem  to  come  in  waves,  appearing  in 
overwhelming  numbers  for  a  time  and  then  disappearing 
as  suddenly  as  they  came.  Such  was  the  case  with  the 
potatoe  beetle  which  began  its  eastward  march  from  the 
Rocky  Mountains  in  1859.  This  vast  army  reaching 
from  Minnesota  to  Texas  swept  across  the  country  at 
a  rate  of  about  70  miles  a  year,  reaching  the  Atlantic 
coast  in  1875,  more  than  doubling  the  price  of  potatoes 
as  it  advanced.  This  destroying  hoard  did  not  stop 
when  the  seashore  was  reached,  but  boldly  plunged  into 
the  ocean  and  the  shores  of  many  of  the  islands  border- 
ing our  eastern  coast  were  in  some  places  covered  to  a 
depth    of    several    inches    by    the    beetles    which    were 


LECTURK    OF    PROF.  TKAOY.  109 

washed  up  by  the  waves.  European  seaports  have 
adopted  strict  regulations  to  prevent  the  landing  of  this 
unwelcome  traveler  upon  their  shores,  but  it  is  greatly  to 
be  feared  that  it  will  yet  gain  a  foothold  there  and  prove 
as  destructive  as  it  has  in  its  native  land.  For  several 
years  these  beetles  have  been  decreasing  in  numbers  in 
the  western  states,  and  during  the  past  two  years  we 
have  seen  almost  none  of  them.  They  may  return,  but 
the  wave  seems  to  have  passed  over  us  for  the  present. 

The  grasshopper  which  has  so  devastated  much  of 
the  country  west  of  us  is  only  an  occasional  visitor  which 
cannot  long  endure  the  climate  of  the  open  plains,  and 
when  it  leaves  its  mountain  home  can  live  but  a  few 
generations  at  the  longest. 

A  number  of  our  most  troublesome  insects,  like  our 
worst  weeds,  are  imported  species.  The  meal-worm, 
the  dread  of  every  miller,  comes  to  us  from  Europe. 
So  too  does  the  Hessian  fly,  which  is  a  part  of  the  price 
we  are  paying  for  our  National  existence,  it  having  been 
brought  to  this  country  by  the  Hessian  soldiers  during 
the  Revolutionary  war.  Among  the  later  importations 
we  have  the  rose  slug  which  made  its  first  appearance  in 
the  east  about  1830,  reaching  St.  Louis  in  1873,  and  Co- 
lumbia in  1S75.  The  cabbage  worm  was  first  noticed 
on  this  continent  at  Quebec  in  1859  and  last  year  we  had 
no  opportunity  to  mourn  its  absence  from  this  locality. 
The  wheat  midge,  the  grain  weevil,  the  codling  moth 
and  the  clothes  moth  are  all  foreign  species.  Should  the 
potato  beetle  succeed  in  reaching  Europe  it  will  do  a 
great  deal  toward  paying  our  debts  in  this  direction. 

Some  insects,  like  some  plants,  have  an  extremely 
limited  geographical  range.  The  Tsetse  fly  of  Africa, 
a  single  bite  of  which  is  fatal  to  a  horse,  has  its  range  as 
sharply  defined  as  is  that  of  forest  and  prairie,  but  why 


110  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

its  range  should  be  so  limited  there  is  no  visible  reason 
river  or  mountain  chain  separates  its  home  from 
the  surrounding-  country.  In  the  United  States  there  is 
a  small  white  moth  which  lives  in  the  flower  of  the 
Yacca,  Adam's  needle  or  Spanish  bayonet  as  it  is  some- 
times called — -a  common  plant  which  is  found  in  almost 
everv  garden  here.  The  moth  is  found  only  where  this 
plant  is  grown,  and  the  plant  hears  seed  only  where  the 
moth  is  found.  The  eggs  of  the  moth  are  laid  in  the 
ovary  of  the  flower — the  flower  cannot  he  fertilized 
without  artificial  aid,  and  in  the  act  of  laving  its  egg  the 
moth  transfers  a  portion  of  the  pollen  to  the  pestil  and 
renders  the  flower  fruitful.  The  plant  is  necessary  for 
a  home  for  the  moth — Hie  moth  is  necessary  for  the  fer- 
tilization of  the  flower — -which  was  created  for  the 
other?  and  which  was  created  first? 

The  summits  of  the  White  Mountains  in  New- 
Hampshire  have  a  monopoly  of  some  species  of  insects, 
and  some  of  the  valleys  and  lake  basins  in  the  Rockv 
Mountains  monopolize  other  species,  while  still  others, 
though  vcrv  few  are  found  from  Maine  to  California 
and    Brazil. 

Concerning  the  numbers  of  insects  but  little  is  defi- 
nitely known.  Of  other  animals  about  ^,000  species 
have  been  described;  of  insects  over  190,000  species 
have  already  been  described  and  it  is  estimated  that  they 
constitute  at  least  four-fifths  of  the  animal  kingdom. 
Hundreds  of  new  species  are  bejng  discovered  every 
year  and  the  insect  found  of  many  large  tracts  of  coun- 
try is  still  almost  unknown.  Until  within  comparatively 
few  years  but  little  attention  was  given  to  the  subject  of 
Entomology,  and  the  science  is  now  far  behind  most 
other  branches  of  Natural  History.  Linnaeus?,  so  uni- 
versally   known    as    the    father   of  Botany.   migTit    with 


LECTURE   OF   PROF.   TRACY.  Ill 

equal  justice  be  called  the  father  of  Entomology  also, 
for  be  was  the  first  to  make  any  general  or  scientific 
classification  of  insects,  and  his  classification  with  but 
one  slight  change,  dividing  one  of  the  orders  into  two — • 
is  the  one  now  in  general  use.  His  classification  was 
made  in  1735  and  it  is  since  that  time  that  nearly  all  of 
the  present  knowledge  of  insect  life  has  been  gained. 
Linnaeus  named  and  described  man}'  thousands  of  species. 
Fabricius  and  Latreille  continued  the  work.  Until  the 
time  of  Agassiz  little  progress  was  made  in  the  science 
in  this  country  and  it  is  largely  to  him  that  we  owe  our 
present  knowledge  of  the  insects  o(  North  America. 
Packard.  Harris,  Leconte,  Thomas,  Walsh  and  Riley  have 
all  contributed  largely  to  our  fund  of  information,  and 
there  is  no  other  portion  of  the  world  of  equal  extent 
where  insects  are  as  well  known  as  in  the  United  States. 
Rut  even  here  much  remains  to  be  done.  During  1S7S 
one  young  lady  living  in  Illinois  discovered  no  less  than 
eighteen  new  species,  all  of  them  within  a  few  miles  of 
her  own  home.  The  botanist  who  discovers  a  new 
plant  feels,  and  justly  too,  that  he  has  made  a  valuable 
addition  to  scientific  knowledge,  but  it  may  be  doubted 
whether  there  is  a  botanist  in  Missouri  who  within  the 
past  year,  or  in  the  past  ten  years  even,  has  discovered 
three  hitherto  unknown  species  of  plants. 

The  life  history  and  habits  of  all  our  more  common 
insects  have  been  published  in  the  state  reports  bv  almost 
every  state  in  the  Union,  but  so  much  still  remains  to  be 
done  that  no  one  has  yet  attempted  to  gather  into  one 
volume  a  compendium  of  what  has  already  been  accom- 
plished. The  insects  of  Missouri  have  been  more 
thoroughly  described  than  those  of  any  other  western 
state,  but  the  descriptions  are  scattered  through  nine 
bulkv  and   ill-arranged    volumes  which  it  is  now  almost 


112  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

impossible  to  obtain.  A  bill  is  now  pending  in  our 
State  Legislature  to  have  these  reports  revised,  re-ar- 
ranged and  republished  in  a  more  available  form,  and 
certainly  the  small  amount  of  money  necessary  for  the 
work  could  not  be  more  judiciously  expended. 

Among  the  more  important  things  we  need  to 
know  concerning  noxious  insects  are:  to  recognize  the 
insect  whenever  we  see  it.  It  is  not  sufficient  that  we 
recognize  it  at  the  time  it  is  destroying  the  fruits  of  our 
labors,  but  we  must  be  able  to  identify  it  at  any  time — 
when  an  egg,  a  larva  or  a  chrysalis — as  well  as  when  it 
has  reached  its  perfect  form.  We  should  know  the  food 
of  the  insect  in  order  that  we  may  know  where  to  look 
for  it.  We  must  know  when  and  where  the  eggs  are 
laid  that  we  may  destroy  them  before  the  larvas  escape. 
We  should  know  when  the  eggs  are  hatched  so  that  we 
may  know  when  to  give  up  our  search  for  the  eggs  and 
begin  to  look  for  the  larvae.  We  should  know  the 
food  plants  of  the  larvae  that  we  may  know  where  to 
look  for  them.  We  should  know  the  places  sought  for 
by  the  larvae  when  about  to  enter  the  chrysalis  state  that 
we  may  set  traps  for  them.  We  must  know  the  chrys- 
alids  so  that  we  may  destroy  them,  and  we  must  also 
know  the  mature  insects  that  we  may  prevent  the  growth 
of  future  generations.  We  should  be  able  to  distinguish 
our  insect  foes  from  our  insect  friends.  Many  insects  are 
carnivorous  and  prey  upon  others.  Many  insects  are 
troubled  with  parasites  which  sooner  or  later  destroy 
them.  The  presence  of  these  carnivorous  and  parasitic 
species  should  be  encouraged  as  far  as  possible. 

While  there  is  much  that  is  curious  and  interesting 
to  be  found  in  the  general  study  of  insects  which  will 
amply  repay  the  time  spent  by  those  who  have  it  to 
spare,  it  is  those  insects  with  which  we  must  contend  for 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    TRACY.  113 

the  products  of  the  soil  which  especially  concern  us,  and 
it  is  their  existence  and  their  ravages  which  make  the 
science  of  Entomology  especially  valuable  to  practical 
people.  We  must  know  the  ways  and  habits  of  noxious 
insects  before  we  can  hope  to  meet  them  on  anything 
like  equal  terms,  but  knowing  them  thoroughly  we  can 
do  much  to  keep  them  in  check,  and  in  many  instances 
©an  insure  ourselves  fully  against  any  loss  from  their 
depredations. 


errata—Prof.  ficklin'S  lecture. 


Page  115,  line  8,  from  bottom — "sidereal"  instead  of  "sidenel  " 
Page  1 17,  line  14,  from  bottom — "leaving"  instead  of  "learning." 
Page  120,  line  5,  from  bottom  insert  "the"  before    "search"    and 

"an"  before  "order." 

Page  122,  line  14,  from  bottom,  put  quotation  mark  after  "habits." 
Page  127,  line  1, — "quod"  instead  of  "quad,"  and  on  same  page, 

line  8  from  bottom,  "cultivation"  instead  of  "cultivation." 

Page  12S,  line  14,  "answer"  instead  of  "anwser,"  and  in  last  line 

on  same  page  "form"  instead    of  "from,"   and    omit  comma    after 

"which." 

On  same  page,  there  ought  to  be  no  paragraph  at  "At   one  time 

a  writer,"  &c. 

Page  141,  line  5,  from  bottom,  insert  "train  of  satellites  :  Saturn 

and  his"  between  "his"  and  "wonderful." 


MATHEMATICS. 


By  Joseph  Fickxin,  Ph.  D.,  Professor  of  Mathe- 
matics and  Astronomy  in  Missouri  University. 
Ladies  and  Gentlemen:  In  making  up  the  pro- 
gramme for  the  present  course  of  University  lectures, 
one  evening  was  given  to  the  department  of  Mathe- 
matics. Soon  after  the  adoption  of  this  programme  the 
question  arose  in  my  mind,  how  can  I  use  the  hour  allot- 
ted to  my  department  so  as  to  accomplish  the  most  good? 
Shall  I  take  some  branch  of  Mathematics,  as  Algebra, 
Geometry  or  Calculus,  and  discuss  it  in  all  its  phases? 
Shall  I  undertake  to  settle  that  vexed  question  relating  to 
the  Doctrine  of  Limits,  the  Infinitesimal  Method  and  the 
Method  of  Rates?  I  was  not  long  in  deciding  to  do 
none  of  these  things.  Then  I  thought  seriously  of  an 
experimental  lecture;  but  when  I  came  to  arrange  the 
details  I  found  insurmountable  difficulties.  Could  I 
bring  into  this  room  the  Surveyor's  Compass,  the  The- 
odolite, the  Level,  the  Sextant,  Transit  Instrument, 
the  Alt-Azimuth,  the  Telescope,  and  Siderasl  clock,  and 
so  handle  them  as  to  make  the  lecture  interesting  to  my 
audience?  There  are  obvious  difficulties  in  carrying  out 
a  plan  of  that  kind.  After  considerable  deliberation  I 
have  decided  to  consider:  i.  The  value  of  the  study  of 
Mathematics  as  an  exercise  of  mind.  3.  The  Relation  of 
Mathematics  to  the  other  Sciences  and  its  Practical  utility. 
I  have  adopted  this  course  with  some  hesitation,  because, 


116  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

during  the  first  semester  of  this  session  there  were  ahout 
320  students  in  my  department  (and  still  they  come),  and 
I  fear  that  if  I  should  do  the  subject  full  justice,  there 
would  be  such  a  rush  upon  me  and  my  assistant,  that  we 
could  not  accommodate  the  clashes,  and  that  other  de- 
partments of  learning  might  be  neglected.  I  shall, 
therefore,  on  the  present  occasion,  present  my  argu- 
ments in  a  mild  form,  holding  a  reserved  force  for  any 
emergency  that  may  arise. 

The  human  mind  is  so  constituted  that  doubt  and 
uncertainty  are  disagreeable  to  it;  but  it  delights  in  prop- 
ositions about  which  there  is  no  shadow  of  doubt.  This 
longing  for  definite  knowledge  is  more  fully  satisfied  in 
the  study  of  Mathematics  than  in  any  other  department 
of  learning;  for  in  Mathematics  the  premises  are  defini- 
tions and  axioms,  and  the  conclusion  follows  with  a  force 
that  is  irresistible.  On  this  point  Dr.  Charles  Davies 
says:  "The  ideas  which  make  up  our  knowledge  of 
Mathematical  science  are  all  impressed  on  the  mind  by 
a  fixed,  definite  and  certain  language,  and  the  mind  em- 
braces them  as  so  many  images  or  pictures,  clear  and 
distinct  in  their  outlines,  with  names  which  at  once  sug- 
gest their  characteristics  and  properties.  The  reasonings 
are  all  conducted  by  means  of  the  most  striking  rela- 
tions between  the  known  and  the  unknown.  The  things 
reasoned  about  and  the  methods  of  reasoning  are  so 
clearly  apprehended  that  the  mind  never  hesitates  or 
doubts.  It  comprehends  or  it  does  not  comprehend,  and 
the  line  which  separates  the  known  from  the  unknown 
is  always  well  defined.  These  characteristics  give  to 
this  system  of  reasoning  a  superiority  over  every  other, 
arising,  not  from  any  difference  in  the  logic,  but  from  a 
difference  in  the  things  to  which  the  logic  is  applied." 
If  Dr.  Davies  is  correct,  then  it  follows  that  there  is 


IiECTUKE    OF   PROF.  FICKLIN.  117 

no  other  science  which  is  so  well  adapted  to  the  im- 
provement of  the  reasoning-  powers  of  man.  Does  one 
wish  to  think  and  reason  correctly  ?  Does  he  feel  that 
he  needs  mental  discipline?  that  he  needs  the  power  of 
concentrating  hi^  thoughts?  the  power  of  close  and  pro- 
longed attention?  Then,  whatever  his  prospective  call- 
ing in  life  may  he,  it  is  his  duty  to  study  the  mathe- 
matics. 

About  the  year  1836,  Sir  William  Hamilton's  cele- 
brated article,  "On  the  study  of  Mathematics  as  an  ex- 
ercise of  Mind'"  was  published  at  Edinburgh.  This  ar- 
ticle was  a  reply  to  an  article  entitled:  "Thoughts  on 
the  study  of  Mathematics  as  a  part  of  a  liberal  Educa- 
tion," by  Dr.  William  Whewell.  Sir  William  Hamil- 
ton states  the  issue  as  follows:  "Before  entering  into 
details  it  is  proper  here,  once  for  all,  to  premise:  In  the 
first  place,  that  the  question  does  not  regard  the  value  of 
Mathematical  science,  considered  in  itself,  or  in  its  objec- 
tive results,  but  the  utility  of  Mathematical  study,  that  is 
in  its  subjective  effect,  as  an  exercise  of  mind;  and  in  the 
second,  that  the  expediency  is  not  disputed,  of  learning 
Mathematics  as  a  co-ordinate,  to  find  their  level  among 
other  branches  of  academical  instruction."  With  these 
premises  before  him  Sir  William  undertakes  to  show  by 
argument,  by  quotations  trom  Mathematicians  them- 
selves, and  from  others,  that  the  study  of  Mathematics 
is,  if  carried  beyond  a  very  moderate  extent,  injurious  to 
the  mind.  This  article  made  a  deep  and  lasting  impres- 
sion, and  was  hailed  with  delight  by  a  host  of  men  who 
lacked  either  the  ability  or  the  industry  to  go  very  far  in 
this  department  of  learning.  Quite  a  number  of  such 
men,  it  is  said,  easily  reached  the  conclusion  (an  example 
of  the  non  sequitur)  that  an  incapacity  for  the  study  of 
Mathematics   was  a  sure  mark  of  a  grenius!     Dr.   Whe- 


118  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

well  never  answered  Sir  William.  Indeed  it  is  supposed 
by  many  at  the  present  day  that  the  article  is  unanswer- 
able. Now  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  able  to  answer  this 
article,  nor  have  I  time  on  the  present  occasion,  if  I  had 
the  ability.  But  I  intend  to  show  by  some  of  the  au- 
thorities quoted  by  him,  by  argument,  and  by  Sir  Wil- 
liam Hamilton  himself,  that  the  study  of  Mathematics  is 
very  beneficial  to  the  mind.  D'Alemhert,  one  of  the  au- 
thorities quoted  by  Sir  William,  says: 

"The  study  of  Mathematics  and  a  talent  for  it  do 
not  then  stand  in  the  way  of  a  talent  for  literature,  and 
literary  pursuits.  We  can  even  say  in  one  sense,  that 
they  are  useful  for  any  kind  of  writing  whatever;  a  work 
of  morals,  of  literature,  of  criticism,  will  be  the  better, 
all  other  things  being  equal,  if  it  is  made  by  a  mathema- 
tician, as  M.  Fontenelle  has  very  well  observed :  it  will 
exhibit  that  justness  and  that  connection  of  ideas  to 
which  the  study  of  mathematics  accustoms  us,  and  which 
it  afterwards  causes  us  to  carry  into  our  writings  without 
our  perceiving  it  and  in  spite  of  us."  Sir  W.  H.  quotes 
Pascal  to  show  the  "difference  between  the  spirit  of 
Mathematics  and  the  spirit  of  Observation."  I  think  a 
careful  reading  of  the  extract  will  show  that  Pascal  was 
trying  to  state  the  difference  between  a  mere  mathema- 
tician and  a  mere  observer;  for  in  the  closing  part  of  it 
he  says:  "Mathematicians  who  are  mere  mathemati- 
cians, have  thus  their  understanding  correct,  provided, 
always,  that  every  thing  be  well  explained  to  them  by 
definition  and  principle,  otherwise,  they  are  false  and  in- 
supportable ;  for  they  are  correct  only  upon  notorious 
principles.  And  minds  of  observation,  if  only  obser- 
vant, are  incapable  of  the  patience  to  descend  to  the  first 
piinciples  of  matters  of  speculation  and  of  imagination, 
of  which   they   have  no  experience   in  the   usage  of  the 


LECTURE    OF  PROF.  FICKLIN.  119 

world."  Pascal  is  sound  on  this  point,  and  I  agree  en- 
tirely with  him.  I  have  not  much  use  for  a  mere  math- 
ematician, a  mere  observer,  or  a  mere  any  thing  else.  I 
am  not  in  favor  _of  a  one-sided  education.  I  advocate 
with  all  the  emphasis  possible,  the  general  and  harmo- 
nious development  of  all  the  faculties  of  the  mind.  But 
I  do  claim  that  the  Mathematics  ought  to  stand  promi- 
nent in  any  scheme  of  liberal  education.  Pascal  is  sound 
on  another  point :  He  says :  "this  science  alone  (mathe- 
matics) knows  the  true  rules  of  reasoning  in  all  things, 
which  almost  all  the  world  ignores,  and  which  it  is  so 
advantageous  to  know,  that  we  see  by  experience  that 
among  minds  equal  and  alike  in  all  other  respects,  he 
who  is  a  mathematician  excels  and  acquires  a  vigor 
entirely  new."  "I  wish  then,"  continues  Pascal,  "to 
show  what  is  a  demonstration  by  examples  from  the 
Mathematics,  which  is  almost  the  onlv  human  science 
which  produces  infallible  ones,  because  it  alone  observes 
the  true  method,  whereas  all  others  are  by  a  natural 
necessity  in  some  sort  of  confusion  which  mathemati- 
cians alone  can  fully  understand."  Sir  William  Hamil- 
ton calls  Pascal  "that  miracle  of  universal  genius." 
Hence,  whatever  Pascal  says  on  the  subject  under  dis- 
cussion ought  to  have  great  weight. 

I  quote  next  from  M.  Chasles:  He  says:  "It  is 
known  how  Descartes,  Pascal  and  Leibnitz,  as  philoso- 
phers and  writers,  derived  assistance  from  mathematics, 
and  with  what  urgency  they  recommended  the  study  of 
the  science  as  infinitely  useful  to  develop  and  to  fortify 
the  true  spirit  of  method." 

The  next  authority  is  Descartes,  the  founder  of 
Modern  Philosophy.  Sir  William  Hamilton  -ays  of 
him:  "Nay  Descartes,  the  greatest  mathematician  of 
his  age,  and,  in  spite  of  his  mathematics,  also  its  greatest 


120  UNIVKRSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

philosopher,  was  convinced  from  his  own  consciousness, 
that  these  sciences,  however  valuable  as  an  instrument 
of  external  science,  are  absolutely  pernicious  as  a  means 
of  internal  culture."  Descartes  must  have  been  a  won- 
derful man  to  be  the  greatest  mathematician  of  his  age 
and  its  greatest  philosopher  too,  in  spite  of  his  Math- 
ematics. If  he  accomplished  so  much  in  the  depart- 
ment of  Philosophy,  under  such  adverse  influences,  what 
would  he  have  done,  if  he  had  paid  no  attention  to 
Mathematics?  For  my  part  I  cannot  tell.  I  have  given 
Sir  William  Hamilton's  opinion  of  Descartes  in  order  to 
show  you  that  he  (Descartes)  is  good  authority.  He 
says:  "In  fact,  it  (mathematics)  ought  to  contain  the  first 
rudiments  of  human  reason,  and  to  aid  in  drawing  from 
every  subject  the  truths  which  it  includes;  and  to  speak 
freely,  I. am  convinced  that  it  is  superior  to  every  other 
human  means  of  knowledge,  because  it  is  the  origin  and 
source  of  all  truths."  Again  he  says:  "Now  when  all  the 
world  knows  the  name  of  the  science,  when  they  con- 
ceive the  object  of  it,  even  without  thinking  much  about 
it  whence  comes  it  that  they  seek  painfully  the  knowledge 
of  the  other  sciences  which  depend  upon  it,  and  that 
scarcely  any  person  takes  the  trouble  to  study  the  science 
itself?  I  would  be  astonished  assuredly  if  I  did  not  know 
that  every  body  regards  it  as  very  easy,  and  if  I  had  not 
observed  for  some  time  that  always  the  human  mind, 
passing  by  what  it  believes  to  be  easy,  hastens  on  to  new 
and  more  elevated  objects.  As  for  myself,  who  am  con- 
scious of  my  feebleness,  I  have  resolved  to  observe  con- 
stantly, in  search  after  knowledge,  such  order  that,  com- 
mencing always  with  the  most  simple  and  easy  things,  I 
never  take  a  step  forward  in  order  to  pass  to  others,  un- 
til I  believe  that  nothing  more  remains  to  be  desired 
concerning:  the   first.     This   is    why    I    have    cultivated 


LECTURE  OF    PROF.    FICKLIN.  121 

even  to  this  day,  as  much  as  I  have  been  able,  that  uni- 
versal mathematical  science,  so  that  I  believe  I-  may 
hereafter  devote  myself  to  other  sciences,  without  fear- 
ing that  my  efforts  may  be  premature."  T  will  ask  Des- 
cartes to  testify  still  further,  for  according-  to  Sir  Wil- 
liam Hamilton  he  is  a  competent  witness.  This  witness 
says:  "More  and  more  I  continued  to  practice  the 
method  I  had  prescribed  to  myself;  for,  besides  that  I 
was  careful  to  conduct  all  mv  thoughts  generally  by  the 
rules,  I  reserved  to  myself  from  time  to  time  some 
hours,  which  I  employed  particularly  in  exercising  my- 
self in  the  difficulties  of  mathematics,  and  also  in  some 
others  which  I  could  render  almost  like  the  mathematics, 
by  detaching  from  them  all  the  principles  of  the  other 
sciences  which  I  found  not  sufficiently  firm,  as  you  will 
see  I  have  done  in  several  which  are  explained  in  this 
volume."  I  will  now  allow  Descartes  to  leave  the  wit- 
ness stand,  and  while  he  is  retiring  and  before  the  next 
witness  is  called,  I  will  take  occasion  to  modestly  sug 
gest  that  possibly  this  greatest  philosopher  of  his  age  be- 
came such  on  account  of  his  mathematics,  and  that  Sir 
William  Hamilton  simply  used  the  wrong  sign.  He 
used  the  negative  sign  when  he  ought  to  have  used  the 
positive  sign.  Some  of  our  students  will  understand 
this  remark. 

The  next  witness  is  Dugald  Stewart,  of  whom  Sir 
William  Hamilton  speaks  thus:  ''To  this  category  we 
may  also  not  improperly  refer  Dugald  Stewart,  for 
though  not  an  author  in  mathematical  science,  he  was  in 
early  life  a  distinguished  professor  of  mathematics;  while 
his  philosophical  writings  prove,  that  to  the  last,  he  had 
never  wholly  neglected  the  professional  studies  of  his 
youth.  In  other  respects,  it  is  needless  to  say  that  his 
authority  is  of  the  highest."     Having  such  a  testimonial 


122  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

as  this  as  to  the  competency  of  the  witness,  we  are  pre- 
pared to  pay  clue  respect  to  any  utterances  of  his  bear- 
ing upon  the  question  under  discussion.  After  giving 
the  reasons  for  his  conclusion  Mr.  Stewart  says:  "And 
hence  the  study  of  it  (mathematics)  is  peculiarly  calcula- 
ted to  strengthen  the  powers  of  steady  and  concentrated 
thinking;  a  power  which  in  all  the  pursuits  of  life* 
whether  speculative  or  active  is  one  of  the  most  valuable 
endowments  we  possess."  But  it  may  be  said  by  those 
who  have  read  the  works  of  Stewart  that  he  testifies 
just  as  forcibly  on  the  other  side.  For  instance  he  says: 
"This  bias  (the  bias  toward  credulity)  now  mentioned  is 
strengthened  by  another  circumstance — the  confidence 
which  the  mere  mathematician  naturally  acquires  in  his 
powers  of  reasoning  and  judgment — in  consequence  of 
which,  though  he  may  be  prevented  in  his  own  pursuits 
from  going  astray  by  the  absurdities  to  which  his  errors 
lead  him,  he  is  seldom  apt  to  be  revolted  by  absurd  con- 
clusion- in  the  other  sciences.  Even  in  physics,  mathe- 
maticians have  been  led  to  acquiesce  in  conclusions  which 
appear  ludicrous  to  men  of  different  habits. 

Now  let  us  examine  this  extract  carefully.  Does 
Mr.  Stewart  say,  substantially,  that  the  tendency  of 
mathematical  studies  is  toward  credulity?  He  does  not. 
His  affirmations  relate  to  the  mere  mathematician:  that 
is,  to  a  man  who  knows  nothing  but  mathematics.  It  is 
easy  to  see  why  a  mere  mathematician  should  be  some- 
what credulous  in  other  departments  of  learning.  He  is 
very  careful  in  every  step  in  his  own  reasoning,  and  he 
knows  that  his  conclusions  are  correct.  Now,  such  a 
man  hears  some  laborer  in  some  other  department  of 
learning  mnke  a  statement  as  to  some  principle  which  he 
has  discovered,  And  he  believes  the  statement.  Why 
does  he    believe    it?     Because   he    thinks   that   one    is  as 


LEOTUKE  OP    PKOF.  FJCKMN.  123 

exact  and  as  careful  as  himself  in  making  his  investiga- 
tions, and  when  the  principle  is  announced  the  mere 
mathematician  reasons  with  himself  ahout  this  way: 
That  man  has  studied  that  subject  very  carefully,  as 
carefully,  perhaps,  as  I  would  study  a  proposition  in 
mathematics,  and  he  says  the  principle  is  true.  There- 
fore, as  I  know  nothing  about  it,  one  way  or  the  other, 
I  am  inclined  to  accept  it.  But  would  not  a  mere  any- 
thing else  be  equally  credulous,  out  of  his  own  line  of 
thought?  Take  a  man  in  any  department  of  learning, 
and  let  him  travel  always  in  his  narrow  groove.  Would 
he  not  be  credulous  as  to  the  statements  made  by  men  in 
other  departments?  This  would  lie  true  especially  if  he 
is  an  honest,  careful  man  himself.  But  as  I  have  already 
said,  I  have  no  use  for  a  mere  mathematician;  away  with 
him!  Such  a  man  resembles  very  closely  an  old  bach- 
elor, who  is,  at  best,  only  a  hemisphere.  But  I  will  ask 
Mr.  Stewart  if  such  a  curiosity  as  a  mere  mathematician 
is  likely  to  be  found  in  this  part  of  the  Solar  System. 
On  this  point  he  says:  "It  must  be  remembered,  at  the 
same  time,  that  the  inconvenience  of  mathematical 
studies  is  confined  to  those  who  cultivate  them  exclusive- 
ly ;  and  that  when  combined,  as  they  now  generally  are, 
they  enlarge  infinitely  our  views  of  the  wisdom  and 
power  displayed  in  the  universe.  The  very  intimate 
connection,  indeed,  which  since  the  date  of  the  New- 
tonian philosophy,  has  existed  among  the  different 
branches  of  mathematical  and  of  physical  knowledge, 
renders  such  a  character  as  that  of  the  mere  mathma- 
tician  a  very  rare,  and  scarcely  a  possible  occurrence; 
and  cannot  fail  to  have  contributed  powerfully  to  correct 
the  peculiarities  likely  to  characterize  an  understanding 
conversant  exclusively  with  the  relations  of  figures  and 
of  abstract  quantities.      Important    advantages    may    also 


124  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

be  expected  to  result  from  those  habits  of  metaphysical 
and  moral  speculation  which  the  study  both  of  mathe- 
matics and  of  physics  has  so  strong-  a  tendency  to  en- 
courage in  every  inquisitive  and  cultivated  mind.  In  the 
present  state  of  science,  therefore,  mathematical  pursuits 
seem  to  lead  the  attention,  by  a  natural  process,  to  the 
employment  of  the  most  effectual  remedies  against  in- 
conveniences which  they  appear,  on  a  superficial  view, 
to  threaten;  and  which  there  is  reason  to  believe  they 
actually  produced  in  many  instances,  where  education 
was  conducted  on  a  plan  less  enlightened  and  comprehen- 
sive than  what  now  generally  prevails.1'  I  will  next 
call  upon  Sir  William  Hamilton  to  state  what  he  thinks 
of  mathematics  "as  an  instrument  of  mental  culture." 
He  says:  "Are  mathematics  then  of  no  value  as  an  in- 
strument of  mental  culture?  Nay,  do  they  exercise  only 
to  distort  the  mind?  To  this  we  answer:  That  this 
study,  if  pursued  in  moderation  and  efficiently  counter- 
acted, may  he  beneficial  in  the  correction  of  a  certain 
vice,  and  in  the  formation  of  its  corresponding  virtue. 
The  vice  is  the  habit  of  mental  distraction;  the  virtue 
the  habit  of  continuous  attention."  Let  us  now  put  by 
the  side  of  this  statement,  the  judgment  of  Mr.  Stewart, 
which  I  have  already  quoted.  He  says:  "And  hence 
the  study  of  it  (mathematics)  is  peculiarly  calculated  to 
strengthen  the  power  of  steady  and  concatenated  think- 
ing; a  power  which  in  all  the  pursuits  of  life,  whether 
speculative  or  active  is  one  of  the  most  valuable  endow- 
ments we  possess." 

The  "power  of  steady  and  concatenated  thinking" 
is  simplv  the  power  of  "continuous  attention,"  so  that 
Sir  William  and  Mr.  Stewart  are  agreed  as  to  the  value 
of  mathematics  "as  an  instrument  of  mental  culture." 
It  must    be   observed,   however,   that    Sir    William    ex- 


LECTURE   OF    PROF.  FICKLIN.  125 

presses  his  views  a  little  more  delicately,  and  with  a  little 
more  reservation  than  Mr.  Stewart.  Sir  William  Ham- 
ilton makes  an  additional  remark  on  the  value  of  atten- 
tion as  follows:  "Nay,  genius  itself  has  been  analyzed 
by  the  shrewdest  observers  into  a  higher  capacity  of  at- 
tention." Now,  if  you  please,  put  these  three  state- 
ments together  and  then  ask  what  they  prove.  Do  they 
not  prove  that  the  study  of  mathematics  is  calculated  to 
strengthen  the  power  of  continuous  attention,  and  that 
genius  itself  is  simply  a  higher  capacity  of  attention? 
Sir  Isaac  Newton  himself  admitted  that  it  was  his 
power  to  concentrate  his  thoughts  on  a  single  point  for  a 
long  time,  that  distinguished  him  from  other  men.  Sir 
William  Hamilton  names  seven  persons  who  had  this 
"higher  capacity  of  attention"  in  a  remarkable  degree, 
and  five  out  ot  the  seven,  viz:  Archimedes,  Carneades, 
Newton,  Cardan  and  Victa,  were  great  mathematicians. 
You  see  what  this  fact  proves,  I  am  sure.  Possibly  this 
great  power  was  developed  in  them  in  "spite  of  their 
mathematics,"  but  on  mathematical  principles,  the  prob- 
ability is  as  5  to  2  against  such  an  hypothesis.  Again  in 
a  work  published  in  1780,  Condillac  says:  "There  are 
four  celebrated  metaphysicians,  Descartes,  Mallcbranche, 
Leibnitz  and  Locke."  Three  of  these  were  great  mathe- 
maticians, and  one  of  them,  Descartes,  the  greatest 
mathematician  and  the  greatest  philosopher  of  his  age. 
We  have  here  the  data  for  the  solution  of  another  prob- 
lem in  probabilities. 

In  the  next  place  I  shall  prove  that  the  study  of 
mathematics  is  very  valuable  as  a  means  of  mental  cul- 
ture, because  it  leads  to  a  sound  philosophy.  My  first 
argument,  in  proof  of  this  proposition,  is  drawn  from  a 
statement  made  by  D'Alembert,  who  was  great  both 
as    a    mathematician    and    as  a    philosopher.      He    says: 


126  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

"But  independently  of  the  physical   and  palpable  uses  of 
mathematics,  we  will  consider  here  its  advantages  under 
another  point   of  view;  it   is  the  utility   of  this  study   in 
preparing,  insensibly,  paths   for   the  philosophical  mind, 
and   in   disposing   an  entire  nation  to  receive   the   light 
which  that  mind  may  diffuse  over  it.     It  is  perhaps  the 
only  means  by   which   certain   countries  in  Europe   can 
throw  off  by    degrees  the  yoke   of  oppression   and  pro- 
found ignorance  under  which  they   groan.     The  small 
number  of  enlightened  men  who  live  in  countries  of  the 
Inquisition,   complain  bitterly,  though  in  secret,  of  the 
little  progress  which  the  sciences  have  hitherto  made  in 
those   sad   regions.      The   precautions   which    they  have 
taken  to  prevent  the  light  from  penetrating   into  them, 
have  so  well   succeeded   that   philosophy  there    is  very 
nearly  in  the  same  condition  in  which  it  was  in  the  time 
of  Louis,  the  Young.     If  mathematicians  should  spring 
up    among  these    people,    they  are    a    seed    which   will 
produce  philosophers  in    due   time,  and   almost   without 
its    being    perceived.     The  most  delicate   and  the   most 
scrupulous   orthodoxy   has   nothing   to   contest   with  the 
Mathematics.     Those  who   believe   it  is  their  interest  to 
hold  the  minds  of  men  in  darkness,  have  sufficient  fore- 
sight to  prevent  the  progress  of  this  science,  and  never 
fail  of  a    pretext    to   prevent    it    from    spreading.     The 
study   of  Mathematics    conducts   to   that    of  Mechanics; 
the  latter  leads,  of  itself  and  without  obstacles,   to   the 
study   of  sound    physics;  and    finally    sound    physics    to 
true  philosophy,  which  by  the  prompt  and  general  light 
which   its  sheds,  will   soon  be    more   powerful   than  all 
the  efforts    of   superstition;    for  these   efforts,    however 
great  they  may  be,  are  useless  when  the  nation  is  once 
enlightened." 

After  such  testimony  as  this  I  would  be  justified  in 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.  FICKLTN.  127 

closing  the  argument  with  a  quad  erat  demonstrandum, 
but  to  make  the  case  still  stronger  I  will  pursue  the  train 
of  thought  suggested  by  this  extract:      I    raise   the  ques- 
tion :  In  what  countries  and   in  what  ages  of  the  world 
has  philosophy   flourished?     Why  was  Ancient   Greece 
celebrated  on  account  of  her  distinguished  philosophers? 
It  was  because  her    people  did   not  neglect    geometry. 
The    testimony  of  Plato,    one  of  the    greatest    philoso- 
phers of  any   country  or  any  age  is  in  point   here,     In 
his  Repub.  Book  VII,  he  uses  the  following  language: 
"Therefore,   then  said   I,  it  must  be  especially   enjoined 
that  those  in  your  beautiful  city  shall  in  no  manner  neg- 
lect geometry,  for  it  is  the  most  beautiful  of  all  sciences, 
and  we  surely  know  that  one  who  has  studied  geometry, 
differs  entirely  from  one  who  has  not  studied  it."     This 
extract  shows  not  only  that  geometry  was  an  established 
science  in  the  days  of  Plato,  but  it  .shows  that  he  consid- 
ered   it    very  unwise    to    neglect    it.     Plato    founded    a 
school  of  Philosophy,  and   in  this  school  Geometry  was 
made  the  basis  of  instruction.     It  is  said   that  he   placed 
this  inscription  over  the  door  of  his  school:  "Let  no  one 
who   is    ignorant    of    Geometry    enter    here/'     He,    no 
doubt,  believed  that  his  instruction's  in  Philosophy  could 
not  be  understood  and  appreciated  by  one  who   was  ig- 
norant of  geometry.     But  I   need  not  multiply  evidence 
on    this    point.      It    is    well    known    that    the     Ancient 
Greeks   surpassed  all  other  nations  in  the   cultivalion  of 
geometry,  and   that   the  resulting  crop   ot  philosophers 
was  correspondingly  large.     Look  at  Rome;  who  were 
her  great  mathematicians?     She  never  had  any.     What 
little  mathematics  the  Romans  knew   was  derived  from 
the  Greeks,  and  its  study  was  encouraged  chiefly   on  ac- 
count of  its  use   in  architecture   and  in  the  art   of  war. 
Who  were  her  great  philosophers?     Cicero  and  Seneca 


128  UNIVKRS1TY    OF    MISSOURI. 

were  perhaps  the  most  eminent  among  them,  and  their 
philosophy,  like  their  Mathematics,  was  borrowed  from 
the  Greeks.  The  Chinese,  Turks  and  Japanese  have 
never  cultivated  Mathematics  to  any  great  extent. 
Where  are  their  philosophers?  Look  at  Mexico  and  the 
States  of  South  America,  where  little  attention  is  paid 
to  Mathematics.  If  you  look  for  philosophers  in  these 
countries  you  will  find  them  very  scarce  indeed.  Why 
is  this?  I  answer  that  in  these  countries  the  study  of 
Mathematics,  which  lays  the  foundation  for  sound  philos- 
ophy, has  been  neglected.  If  you  fail  to  sow  the  seed, 
you  need  not  expect  a  crop.  I  now  repeat  my  question : 
"In  what  countries,  and  in  what  ages  of  the  world  has 
philosophy  flourished  ?"  You  are  ready  to  anwser : 
"Wherever  and  whenever  the  greatest  attention  was 
given  to  the  study  of  Mathematics." 

Again,  the  study  of  Mathematics  is  valuable  as  a 
means  of  mental  culture,  because  it  leads  to  a  definite 
phraseology.  Why  is  a  definite  phraseology  desirable? 
In  order  that  the  reader  may  understand  the  writer;  in 
order  that  the  hearer  may  understand  the  speaker,  and 
in  order  that  cither  may  understand  himself.  One  great 
source  of  error  in  reasoning  is  due  to  the  fact  that  words 
are  used  in  a  double  or  incomplete  sense. 

At  one  time  a  writer  may  use  a  word  in  one  sense, 
and  at  another  time,  without  being  aware  of  it,  he  may 
use  it  in  a  different  sense,  on  the  same  subject,  and  thus 
mislead  the  reader,  and  it  may  be,  himself  also.  Now 
the  stud)'  of  Mathematics  fortifies  one  against  errors  of 
this  kind,  for  words  are  here  used  in  a  definite  and  com- 
plete sense.  I  shall  ask  Mr.  Stewart  to  testify  on  this 
point.  He  says:  "Of  the  peculiar  and  super-eminent 
advantage  possessed  by  Mathematicians  in  consequence 
of  those  fixed  and  definite  relations  which,  from  the  oh- 


LECTURE  OK    PROF.   FICKLIN.  129 

jects  of  their  science,  and  the  correspondent  precision 
in  their  language  and  reasonings,  I  can  think  of  no  illus- 
tration more  striking  than  what  is  afforded  by  Dr.  Hal- 
ley's  Latin  version  from  an  Arabic  manuscript,  of  the 
two  books  of  Apollonius  Pergaeus  de  Sectione  Ratio- 
nis.  The  extraordinary  circumstances  under  which  this 
version  was  attempted  and  completed  (which  I  presume 
are  little  known  beyond  the  narrow  circle  of  mathemat- 
ical readers)  appears  to  me  so  highly  curious,  considered 
as  a  matter  of  literary  history,  that  I  shall  copy  a  short 
detail  of  them  from  Halley's  preface.  After  mention- 
ing the  accidental  discovery  in  the  Bodleian  library  by 
Dr.  Bernard,  Savilian  Professor  of  Astronomy,  of  the 
Arabic  version  of  Apollonius,  Peri  logon  apotomes, 
Dr.  Halley  proceeds  thus:  "Delighted,  therefore,  with 
the  discovery  of  such  a  treasure,  Bernard  applied  him- 
self diligently  to  the  task  of  a  Latin  translation.  But 
before  he  had  finished  a  tenth  part  of  his  undertaking, 
he  abandoned  it  altogether,  either  from  his  experience 
of  its  growing  difficulties,  or  from  the  pressure  of  other 
avocations.  Afterwards,  when  on  the  death  of  Dr. 
Wallis,  the  Savilian  professorship  was  bestowed  on  me  I 
was  seized  with  a  strong  desire  of  making  a  trial  to 
complete  what  Bernard  had  begun; — an  attempt  of  the 
boldness  of  which  the  reader  may  judge,  when  he  is  in- 
formed, that,  in  addition  to  my  own  entire  ignorance  of 
the  Arabic  language,  I  had  to  contend  with  the  obscuri- 
ties occasioned  by  innumerable  passages  which  were 
either  defaced  or  altogether  obliterated.  With  the  as- 
sistance, however,  of  the  sheets  which  Bernard  had  left, 
and  which  served  me  as  a  key  for  investigating  the 
sense  of  the  original,  I  began  first  with  making  a  list  of 
those  words,  the  signification  of  which  his  version  had 
clearly  ascertained;  and  then  proceeded,  by   comparing 


130  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

these  words  wherever  they  occurred,  with  the  train  of 
reasoning  in  which  they  were  involved,  to  decipher,  hy 
slow  degrees,  the  import  of  the  context;  till  at  last  I 
succeeded  in  mastering  the  whole  work,  and  in  bringing 
my  translation  (without  the  aid  of  any  other  person)  to 
the  form  in  which  I  now  give  it  to  the  public.  When 
a  similar  attempt  shall  be  made  with  equal  success,  in 
deciphering  a  moral  or  a  political  treatise  written  in  an 
unknown  tongue,  then,  and  not  till  then,  may  we  think 
of  comparing  the  phraseology  of  these  two  sciences 
With  the  simple  and  rigorous  language  of  the  Greek 
geometers;  or  with  the  more  refined  and  abstract,  but 
not  less  scrupulously  logical  system  of  signs,  employed 
by  modern  mathematicians." 

Another  reason  why  the  study  of  mathematics  is 
valuable  as  a  mental  gymnastic  is  that  it  accustoms  the 
mind  to  seek  truth  for  its  own  sake,  and  .to  accept  as 
true  whatever  is  proved.  Hence  the  tendency  of  this 
study  is  to  eradicate  prejudice. 

In  the  Southern  Rcvicxo,  Prof.  Bledsoe,  to  whom  I 
am  indebted  for  some  of  my  extracts,  makes  this  state- 
ment: "The  study  of  mathematics  invigorates  the  will, 
and  thereby  increases  the  efficiency  of  all  the  other  fac- 
ulties of  the  mind."  This  is  admirably  said,  and  a  little 
consideration  will  show  that  it  is  true.  When  one  suc- 
ceeds in  demonstrating  some  difficult  theorem,  or  in 
solving  some  intricate  problem,  he  experiences,  not  only 
a  hi^h  degree  of  satisfaction,  but  he  realizes  that  he  has 
acquired  new  power,  that  his  ability  to  reason  has  been 
increased,  and  that  he  is  better  prepared  to  contend  with 
difficulties  and  to  overcome  the  obstacles  that  lie  before 
him  in  the  battle  of  life.  When  the  great  Newton  had 
succeeded  in  demonstrating  the  universal  law  of  gravita- 
tion, did  he  stop  at  that  point?     No!    His   mind   seemed 


LECTURE  OK   PROF.    FIOKLIN.  131 

to  receive  additional  power,  and  he  proceeded  to  develop 
his  brilliant  discovery  in  his  Principia,  "which,'*  Anago 
says,  "even  in  the  present  day,  is  regarded  as  the  most 
eminent  production  at   the  human  intellect." 

The  tendency  of  the  study  of  Mathematics  is  to 
make  one  prompt  and  truthful.  Many  people  are  in  the 
habit  of  making  false  statements,  not  through  any  desire 
to  deceive,  hut  on  account  of  carelessness  in  the  use  of 
language,  and  many  seem  to  think  it  quite  unnecessary 
to  meet  their  engagements.  A  man  may  promise  to 
meet  you  precisely  at  3  p.  m.,  on  a  certain  da}:,  for  the 
transaction  of  important  business,  but  the  average  man 
would  think  he  was  doing  remarkably  well  if  he  came 
to  the  station  at  half  past  five.  The  fact  is,  in  most  cases, 
when  two  men  agree  to  meet  at  a  certain  time,  neither 
of  them  expects  the  other  to  come  to  time,  and  this  mu- 
tual distrust  aggravates  the  difficulty.  Now  I  claim  that 
it  is  the  tendency  of  mathematical  studies  to  correct 
these  evils.  A  man  who  has  long  been  accustomed  to 
the  exact,  close  and  rigid  reasoning  of  mathematics, 
who  has  been  compelled  to  give  the  closest  possible  at- 
tention to  every  point  in  the  argument,  uiu\  to  state  that 
argument  in  the  most  exact  language,  will  surely  exhibit 
the  effects  of  his  training  in  his  daily  walk  and  conver- 
sation. .Such  a  man  is  almost  certain  to  be  truthful, 
prompt,  and  true  to  his  engagements,  for  he  lias  learned 
thai  guessing  is  out  of  order,  and  that  "'about  right"  or 
"somewhere   in    the    neighborhood    of   the    truth"    will 

:ely  pass.  [t  is  true,  that  a  young  man  may  have 
the  habit  of  carelessness  SO  fastened  upon  him  that  noth- 
ing will  save  him;  hut,  if  he  is  not  totally  depraved  in 
this  respect,  a  severe  drill  in  mathematics  will  do  him 
some  good.  This  remark  is  especially  applicable  to 
Astronomy,  for  if  one    wishes  to  see  a  certain  star   cross 


132  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

the   meridian,  he   must  come  to  time;  if  he   is  a  second 
behind  time  he  finds  the  star  is  gone. 

The  study  of  Mathematics  tends  to  cultivate  the 
imagination.  In  proof  of  this  proposition  I  present  an 
extract  from  a  series  of  articles  on  the  imagination  by 
Dr.  Thomas  Hill,  formerly  President  of  Harvard.  He 
says:  "In  this  Geometrical  imagination,  the  utmost  pre- 
cision is  necessary.  From  a  muddy,  ill-defined  image, 
no  consequences  can  be  deduced.  The  geometric  form 
is  one  of  absolute  perfection;  from  approximate  forms 
nothing  but  approximate  results  can  be  obtained.  *  *  * 
In  cultivating  Geometry,  we  prepare  the  pupil  in  the 
most  effective  way  for  any  or  all  the  practical  arts  of  life; 
we  aid  efficiently  in  fitting  him  for  painting,  engrav- 
ing, or  sculpture,  among  the  arts;  and  we  give  him  the 
surest  foundation  on  which  to  build  scientific  knowledge. 
Nay,  even  for  those  professions  which  deal  with  man, 
geometry  is  a  fitting  preparation,  not  chiefly  because  it 
trains  the  mind  to  logical  reasoning,  but  rather  because 
it  leads  to  accuracy  of  conception,  to  clearness  of  percep- 
tion, to  precision  of  expression,  to  definiteness  and  fitness 
in  the  choice  of  imagery.  All  language,  through  which 
we  deal  with  each  other,  even  when  discussing  the 
most  abstract  thehies,  is  figurative,  borrowed  from  the 
outward  world;  and  whatever  leads  to  the  most  vivid 
imagination  of  the  realities  of  th<*  outward  world,  leads 
to  the  most  vigorous  expression  of  the  facts  of  the  in- 
ward world.  Thus  Geometrical  training  tends  indirectly 
to  cultivate  the  power  by  which  the  lawyer,  the  orator, 
the  clergyman  and  the  author  convince,  persuade,  in- 
struct and  delight  their  fellow-men."  It  is  true  that  Dr. 
Hill  here  refers  more  especially  to  practical  Geometry, 
where  the  pupil  has  before  him  the  actual  forms,  and 
where   he   is   required  to   make  drawings   of  them;  but 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.  FICKLIN.  133 

when  geometry  is  taught  as  it  ought  to  be,  the  theoreti- 
cal and  the  practical  are  combined;  then  the  advantages 
enumerated  will   be  greatly  increased. 

This  "cloud  of  witnesses"  and  the  arguments  I  have 
presented  prove,  I  think,  that  the  discipline  acquired  in 
the  study  of  Mathematics  is  very  valuable  in  this  life; 
but  when  we  reflect  that  every  demonstrated  proposition 
is  an  immutable,  everlasting  truth,  and  that  it  will  be  val- 
uable to  us  during  the  endless  cycles  of  eternity,  in  our 
investigations  of  the  laws  that  govern  the  wonderful 
works  of  God,  this  discipline  and  this  knowledge  be- 
come valuable  beyond  conception.  Other  things  being 
equal,  the  one  who  knows  most  about  the  works  of  God, 
as  exhibited  in  the  material  universe,  knows  most  about 
God  himself.  Who  has  a  better  conception  of  the  pow- 
er and  wisdom  of  the  Creator?  one  who,  ignorant  of 
mathematics,  looks  upon  the  countless  host  of  stars  and 
planets  as  mere  shining  points  scattered  here  and  there 
without  design,  without  order,  and  without  law?  or  one 
skilled  in  this  science,  who  looks  upon  the  universe  as  a 
grand  machine,  held  together  and  governed  by  immuta- 
ble laws;  who  is  able  to  measure  the  diameters  and  dis- 
tances of  the  sun  and  planets,  to  estimate  their  masses, 
and  to  predict  all  their  movements? 

This  question  is  sometimes  asked  by  students  who 
do  not  expect  to  engage  in  any  business  directly  involv- 
ing the  higher  branches  of  Mathematics:  What  good 
will  it  do  me  to  spend  my  time  on  Mathematical  studies? 
What  is  the  use  of  it?  I  answer:  You  ought  not  to 
devote  your  whole  time  to  mathematics,  for  if  you  do, 
you  will  be  a  mere  mathematician;  but,  if  you  expect  to 
engage  in  any  pursuit  requiring  accurate  thinking,  you 
ought  to  give  a  liberal  share  of  your  time  to  the  stud}'  of 
the  exact  sciences,   for   reasons   alreadv    given.     On   the 


134  UNIVKRSITV    OF    MISSOURI. 

other  hand,  if  you  expect  to  stop  thinking  and  reason- 
ing; if  you  are  satisfied  to  go  through  life  guessing  at 
results,  you  can  be  excused.  The  fact  is  there  is  no  pro- 
fession in  which  the  discipline  acquired  in  the  study  of 
Mathematics,  will  not  be  beneficial,  except  loafing,  run- 
ning a  hand   organ,  and    in  the  lower   walks  of  politics. 

There  is  a  tendency  in  the  present  day  to  think 
lightly  of  a  branch  of  learning  which  is  said  to  give 
mere  mental  discipline.  There  is  a  disposition  to  esti- 
mate an  education  according  to  the  amount  of  wealth  it 
will  yield.  You  have  doubtless  heard  of  Mr.  "Thomas 
Gradgrind  of  Stone  Lodge."  He  and  others  like  him 
were  the  founders  of  this  utilitarian  system.  "What  I 
want,"  said  Mr.  Gradgrind,"  "is  facts;  teach  these  boys 
and  girls  nothing  but  facts;  facts  alone  are  wanted  in 
life.  Plant  nothing  else,  and  root  out  every  thing  else." 
Now,  I  do  not  admit  that  the  study  of  mathematics  is 
valuable  merely  as  a  mental  discipline:  on  the  contrary 
I  intend  to  show  that  it  is  the  basis  of  all  that  is  prac- 
tical in  science;  vet.  for  the  sake  of  argument,  let  it  be 
granted  that  it  is  valuable  in  this  respect  only.  Is  it 
necessary  that  the  mind  should  be  well  trained  in  order 
to  make  the  proper  use  of  these  facts,  which  we  are  to 
observe?  Who  is  best  qualified  to  arrange,  to  classify, 
and  to  embrace  under  one  grand  law,  these  facts?  The 
mere  observer?  or  the  man  who  in  addition  to  being  a 
good  observer,  has  been  severely  disciplined  in  the 
school  of  mathematics? 

Without  such  discipline  the  deductions  of  the  human 
mind  are  unreliable;  it  is  apt  to  draw  general  conclusions 
from  particular  cases,  and  to  be  led,  in  various  ways,  into 
error.  Let  me  emphasize  the  thought  then,  that  mental 
discipline  is  as  important  to  the  thinker  as  manual  skill 
to   the  worker  in  the  mechanic   arts,  and   that   the  study 


LECTURE    OF   PROF.  FICKLIN.  135 

of  mathematics  cannot,  without  serious  loss,  be  neglected 
by  one  who  would  become  an  accurate,  skillful  and 
ready  reasoner. 

It  is  truly  stated  by  Sir  William  Hamilton  that 
"all  matter  is  either  necessary  or  contingent,"  and  it 
is  claimed  by  some  philosophers  that  reasoning  upon 
necessary  matter,  as  in  the  pure  mathematics,  is  not 
as  beneficial  to  the  mind  as  probable  reasoning.  I 
remark,  in  the  fir-'  place,  that  the  study  of  necessary 
reasoning  is  an  indispensable  preparation  for  the  study 
of  the  probable,  because  the  study  of  the  necessary  leads 
to  a  most  careful  scrutiny  of  premises,  to  clear  and  ac- 
curate thought,  and  hence  to  a  definite  phraseology;  and, 
that  the  term  mathematics  includes  both  theoretical  and 
applied  mathematics,  and  in  the  latter,  especially  in  En- 
gineering and  Practical  Astronomy  there  is  the  widest 
field  for  reasoning  upon  contingent  matter;  for  examples 
of  this  kind  of  reasoning  I  refer  to  the  account  in 
Loomis's  Recent  Progress  of  Astronomy,  of  the  discov- 
ery of  the  planet  Neptune,  and  to  Prof.  Newcomb's  "Re- 
duction and  discussion  of  observations  on  the  moon  be- 
fore 1750."  In  the  third  place,  it  is  undoubtedly  true 
that  the  sphere  of  necessarv  matter  is  rapidly  enlarging 
and  encroaching  upon  that  of  contingent  matter,  and 
this  will  continue  as  long  as  exact  observations  continue 
to  be  made. 

Comte,  in  his  Philosophy  of  Mathematics,  affirms 
"that,  in  the  purely  logical  point  of  view,  this  science 
(mathematics)  is  by  itself  necessarilv  and  rigorously 
universal;  for  there  is  no  question  whatever  which 
may  not  be  finally  conceived  as  consisting  in  deter- 
mining certain  quantities  from  others  by  means  of  cer- 
tain relations,  and  consequently  as  admitting  of  reduc- 
tion, in  final    analysis,  to  a  simple  question  of  numbers." 


1S6  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

Again,  the  same  writer  says,  that  "every  phenomenon  is 
logically  susceptible  of  being  represented  by  an 
equation ;  as  much  so,  indeed,  as  is  a  curve  or  a  motion, 
excepting  the  difficulty  of  discovering  it,  and  then  of  re- 
solving it,  which  may  be,  and  often  times  are,  superior 
to  the   greatest  powers   of  the  human  mind." 

Having  shown  that  the  study  of  mathematics  is  indis- 
pensable as  a  means  of  mental  culture,  I  come  next  to 
consider  its  practical  utility.  Is  mathematics  a  practical 
science?  The  word  practical  \s>  very  imperfectly  under- 
stood by  the  mass  of  mankind.  It  is  supposed  by  many  to 
be  the  very  opposite  of  theoretical.  Docs  any  practical 
good  arise  from  pursuing  such  a  study  ?  Would  it  not  be 
better  to  learn  facts?  are  questions  often  propounded.  Let 
us  examine  this  word  practical  a  little:  As  generally 
used,  this  word  implies  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  by 
some  short  and  easy  process;  in  fact,  it  implies  the  vise  of 
a  principle  without  knowing  it  to  be  true.  The  so-called 
practical  man  says:  "Just  give  me  the  rule,  and  I  will 
work  by  it;  I  merely  wish  to  know  how  to  apply  the 
rule;  I  care  nothing  for  the  analysis  that  proves  the  rule 
to  be  true."  If  all  men  were  practical  in  this  sense,  how 
long  would  it  be  before  the  rules  would  be  forgotten, 
and  not  a  man  could  be  found  to  make  one?  Prof. 
Davies  in  his  "Logic  and  Utility  of  Mathematics,"  com- 
menting on  the  true  meaning  of  the  word  practical, 
says:  "But  give  to  practical  its  true  signification,  and  it 
becomes  a  word  of  the  choicest  import.  In  its  right 
sense,  it  is  the  best  means  of  making  the  ideal  the  actual; 
that  is,  the  best  means  of  carrying  into  the  business  and 
practical  affairs  of  life  the  conceptions  and  deductions  of 
science.  All  that  is  truly  great  in  the  practical  is  but 
the  actual  of  an  antecedent  ideal."  In  this  sense  of  the 
word  I  shall  endeavor  to  show  that  mathematical  science 
is  eminently  practical. 


LECTURE    OF  PROF.  FICKL.IN.  187 

The  mason  needs  geometry  to  estimate  the  quan- 
tity of  material  used;  the  architect  needs  it  in  order  to 
adjust  the  various  parts  of  the  building;  the  mill-wright 
needs  the  mathematical  principles  of  Natural  Philoso- 
phy in  order  to  estimate  the  amount  of  power  required 
to  overcome  a  given  resistance. 

If  the  Missouri  or  the  Mississippi  is  to  be  spanned 
by  a  bridge,  a  great  mathematician  must  be  employed  to 
take  charge  of  the  work.  The  form,  size,  and  strength 
of  every  beam  and  bolt  must  be  determined  in  the  be- 
ginning, otherwise  there  would  be  a  great  loss  of  money, 
time  and    material. 

Is  the  art  of  navigation  practical?  and  does  it 
depend  upon  mathematics?  The  vessel  is  constructed 
in  accordance  with  mathematical  principles,  and  it  pur- 
sues its  way  through  the  trackless  deep  guided  by 
the  unerring  results  of  mathematical  formulae.  When 
we  consider  the  amount  of  life  and  property  involved 
in  navigation  we  see  that  mathematics  is  very  useful, 
for,  without  its  aid,  ships  would  not  venture  far  from 
the  coast,  and  communication  between  continents  would 
cease. 

The  laws  established  by  Kepler,  Newton,  La  Place, 
and  others  were  at  one  time  though;  to  be  merely 
theoretical,  and  without  any  practical  value  what- 
ever; and  when  Bowditch,  the  American  mathema- 
tician, undertook  the  translation  of  La  Place's  cele- 
brated work,  the  Mechanique  Celeste"  some  thought  it 
a  great  waste  of  time,  and  that  old  question,  "What  is 
the  use  of  it?"  came  up  again.  Now  I  wish  it  under- 
stood that  1  do  not  object  to  the  question.  It  is  a  good 
and  pointed  question,  and  ought  to  be  answered.  The 
answer  is,  that  Bowditch  having  mastered  the  works  of 
these  celebrated    men,  was   enabled    to   construct    tables 


138  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

for  the  navigator,  by  means  of  which  the  latitude  and 
longitude  of  a  ship  could  be  determined  with  greater  ac- 
curacy than   had    hitherto  been   possible. 

The  work  of  the  United  States  Coast  Survey 
is  closely  connected  with  navigation.  The  object 
of  (his  survey  is  to  make  an  accurate  map  of  our 
thousands  of  miles  of  sea  coast,  to  place  upon  charts 
the  positions  of  the  channels,  the  shoals,  the  reefs, 
and  dangerous  rocks.  This  is  a  work  of  great  prac- 
tical utility,  for  it  diminishes  the  risk  ot  the  life  and 
property  involved  in  navigation,  and  thus  diminishes  the 
cost  of  imports.  But  the  work  of  the  Coast  Survey  has 
been  extended,  so  as  to  include  a  trigonometrical  survey 
of  the  whole  country.  This  will  form  the  basis  of  a 
complete  topographical  map,  which,  in  turn  will  serve 
as  a  basis  for  Agricultural  and  Geological  surveys. 
Prof.  J .  E.  Hilgard,  of  the  Coast  Survey,  speaking  of 
the  difficulties  under  which  we  labor  in  most  parts  of 
our  country  for  the  want  of  such  surveys  says:  "In  the 
attempt  to  put  together  the  local  plans  of  townships  and 
counties,  irreconcilable  differences,  often  amounting  to 
several  miles,  are  encountered.  The  accepted  geograph- 
ical positions  of  capitals  are  found  greatly  in  error  when 
determined  In  accurate  means.  A  river  boundary,  such 
as  the  Ohio,  when  drawn  from  the  data  available  for  one 
state  will  differ  widely  from  that  constructed  for  an  ad- 
joining   one." 

The  ordinary  land  surveys  cannot  be  made  the 
basis  of  a  topographical  map,  for  these  surveys  were 
made  on  the  supposition  that  the  surface  of  the  earth 
is  a  plane,  whereas  it  is  really  spherical,  and  any  at- 
tempt to  fit  together  such  surveys,  so  as  to  make  a  map 
of  a  state,  will  result  in  a  failure,  because  a  plane  sur- 
face cannot   be  made   to   fit  the  surface   of  a  sphere. 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.  FlCKLIN.  139 

It'  we  had  an  accurate  topographical  map  of  our 
state  it  would  be  of  great  value  to  us.  If  a  new  rail- 
road is  to  be  built,  or  if  a  town  or  city  is  to  be  sup- 
plied with  water  brought  from  a  distant  point  by- 
aqueducts,  Engineers  must  be  employed  to  survey 
two  or  three  routes,  and  then  the  managers  get  to- 
gether and  decide  which  route  is  the  cheapest  and  best. 
But  if  we  had  a  topographical  map  ot  the  state,  an  ex- 
pert could  sit  in  his  room  with  the  map  before  him,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  locate  the  line  of  the  road  or  of  the 
water  supply.  Other  illustrations  of  the  advantages  of  a 
perfect  map  could  be  given  but  it  is  unnecessary.  As  a 
good  house-keeper  knows  her  house  from  cellar  to  gar- 
ret, so  a  nation  ought  to  know  its  own  domain.  I  need 
not  say,  that  unless  a  man  is  a  good  mathematician,  he 
would  have  no  difficulty  in  being  excused  from  taking 
part  in  these    surveys. 

Again,  our  government  has  established  Military 
and  Naval  schools  in  which  mathematics  is  made  the 
basis  oi  instruction.  The  course  of  Mathematics  in 
these  schools  is  more  extended  than  in  any  of  the  other 
institutions  in  this  country.  Why  is  this  so?  and  why 
have  other  enlightened  governments  done  the  same 
thing?  It  is  because  there  is  a  profound  conviction,  on 
the  part  of  those  in  authority,  that  a  severe  drill  in 
Mathematical  studies  is  the  best  means  for  preparing 
men  to   command    armies   and   navies. 

The  work  of  the  civil  engineer  is  practical.  He  builds 
railroads,  tunnels  mountains,  and  spans  our  great  rivers 
with  bridges,  thus  making  all  parts  of  the  country  easily 
accessible,  and  making  near  neighbors  of  states  lying  at 
opposite  extremities  of  our  vast  territory.  He  has  liter- 
ally bound  together  the  States  of  this  union  by  iron 
bands,   stronger  than   hayonets,   bills    of  civil    rights,  or 


140  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

constitutional  amendments.  It  is  impossible  for  us  to  re- 
alize, fully,  the  extent  and  advantages  ot  the  work  of 
the  engineer.  We  would  indeed  be  in  a  sad  plight 
without  our  bridges,  our  turnpikes  and  our  railroads.  It 
is  needless  to  say  that  a  thorough  course  of  mathematics 
is  the  only  road  to  success  in  engineering.  In  corrobora- 
tion of  this,  competent  judges  have  decided  that  our  army 
engineers,  graduates  of  West  Point,  stand  at  the  head  of 
the  profession. 

But  at  this  point  some  one  is  ready  to  ask,  are  not 
Chemistry,  Physics,  Mechanics,  Mineralogy,  Natural 
History  and  Astronomy  of  practical  utility?  They 
are  certainly,  but  you  will  soon  see  that  Mathematics 
has  complete  possession  of  some  of  these,  and  that  it 
has  acquired  large  territory  in  the  others. 

The  student  of  Chemistry  soon  finds  that  each  ele- 
ment has  a  combining  number,  that  atoms  unite  with 
each  other  in  certain  fixed  and  definite  ratios.  He  does 
not  proceed  very  far  until  he  meets  with  equations  to  be 
solved,  and  before  he  can  master  the  subject  he  will  find 
use  for  the  higher  mathematics. 

In  Physics  also  mathematics  is  prominent.  It  has 
already  almost  complete  possession  of  sound,  light,  and 
heat,  and  recently  I  saw  the  statement  that  Prof.  Peirce 
of  Cambridge  was  lecturing  on  the  mathematical  theory 
of  electricity. 

Mechanics  treats  of  the  parallelogram  of  forces,  the 
theory  of  falling  bodies,  the  parabolic  path  of  projectiles, 
the  motion  of  bodies  down  inclined  planes  and  in  curves; 
in  fact,  the  student  soon  finds  that  Mechanics  is  simply 
applied  mathematics,  and  that  he  will  need  both  Ana- 
lytical Geometry  and  the  Calculus  to  understand  all  the 
principles. 

In  Mineralogy  there  is  need  of  mathematics.   There 


LECTURE  OF    PROF.  FICKLfN.  141 

are  hexagonal  prisms,  tetraedrons,  hexaedrons,  octae- 
drons,  rhombic  dodecaedrons  and  other  geometrical 
forms.  Thus,  in  crystalization  nature  works  by  the  rules 
of  geometry. 

The  naturalist  finds  that  the  bones  of  animals  are 
constituted  in  accordance  with  the  mathematical  theory 
of  the  strength  and  stress  of  materials;  that  the  honey 
bee  forms  its  cell  in  such  a  manner  as  to  combine  a  max- 
imum of  space  with  a  minimum  of  material. 

Arago  in  his  eulogy  on  LaPlace  says:  "Astronomy 
is  the  science  of  which  the  human  mind  may  most  justly 
boast.  It  owes  this  indisputable  pre-eminence  to  the  ele- 
vated nature  of  its  object,  to  the  grandeur  of  its  means  of 
investigation,  to  the  certainty,  the  utility,  and  the  unparal- 
leled magnificence  of  its  results."  Some  ambitious  youth 
who  does  not  like  Mathematics,  now  comes  forward  and 
says:  "Ah!  that  is  just  what  I  have  always  thought,  I 
never  did  like  arithmetic  and  algebra,  and  I  wish  to  study 
the  sublime  science  of  Astronomy.  He  applies  for  admis- 
sion to  the  class  in  that  subject,  but  finds  some  slight 
difficulty  in  being  admitted  as  "a  member  in  good  stand- 
ing and  full  fellowship."  Nevertheless  he  is  admitted 
as  a  visitor.  Very  well.  He  goes  into  the  Observatory, 
and,  after  looking  at  the  instruments,  he  is  more  firmly 
convinced  than  ever  that  he  will  like  Astronomy.  He 
gazes  with  admiration  upon  mighty  worlds  moving  in 
their  appointed  orbits  in  the  depths  of  space;  he  looks 
with  astonishment  and  delight  upon  some  brilliant 
comet;  he  is  enraptured  with  the  telescopic  views  of 
Jupiter  and  his  wonderful  system  of  rings;  he  becomes 
still  more  interested  when  he  turns  the  telescope  upon 
our  moon,  and  begins  to  examine  its  mountains  and  val- 
leys; he  imagines  that  in  these  remote  regions  of  space, 
he  will  not  encounter  that  measuring,  syllogistic  science 


142  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

commonly  called  Mathematics.  He  observes  one  thing 
after  a  while,  however,  that  renders  him  a  little  uneasy. 
If  an  eclipse  of  the  Sun  or  Moon,  or  of  one  of  Jupiter's 
satellites,  a  transit  of  Venus  or  Mercury,  or  the  passage 
of  a  star  across  the  meridian  is  predicted,  he  finds  that 
the  event  verifies  the  prediction;  it  comes  to  time;  it 
meets  its  appointment  with  a  precision  that  is  absolutely 
startling.  This  looks  a  little  mathematical.  But  he 
proceeds.  He  has  a  desire  to  know  how  the  diameters, 
distances,  masses,  orbits  and  times  of  revolutions  of  the 
planets  are  calculated;  he  would  find  the  height  of 
lunar  mountains,  the  depth  of  lunar  valleys,  and  the  time 
of  the  comet's  return.  But  here  serious  trouble  begins; 
he  finds  that  the  planets  are  oblate  spheroids;  that  they 
revolve  upon  axes  variously  inclined  to  the  planes  of 
their  orbits;  that  they  describe  ellipses  having  the  Sun 
in  one  of  the  foci.  He  hears  something  said  about  ec- 
centricity, true  and  mean  anomaly,  precession  of  the 
equinoxes,  nutation,  aberration  of  light,  centripetal  and 
centiifugal  forces;  but  he  has  no  clear  and  satisfactory 
conception  of  these  terms,  because  they  involve  geome- 
try and  the  higher  mathematics.  The  young  man  has 
made  a  great  mistake.  He  supposed  that  "star  gazing" 
was  astronomy,  and  after  gazing  until  he  becomes  satis- 
fied, he  ceases  to  attend  the  recitations  even  as  a  visitor. 
The  value  of  the  study  of  mathematics  as  a  prepa- 
ration for  Astronomy  is  admirably  set  forth  by  Sir  John 
Hesschel  in  the  introduction  to  his  Outlines  of  Astrono- 
my. He  says:  "Admission  to  its  sanctuary,  and  to  the 
privileges  and  feelings  of  a  votary,  is  only  to  be  gained 
by  one  means,  sound  and  sufficient  knowledge  of  mathe- 
matics, the  great  instrument  of  all  exact  inquiry,  with- 
out which  no  man  can  ever  make  such  advances  in  this 
or  any  other  of  the  higher  departments  of  science  as  can 


LECTURE  OF    FROE.  FICKLTN.  148 

entitle  him  to  form  an  independent  opinion  on  any  sub- 
ject of  discussion    within    their  range." 

Mathematics  is  useful  in  history  for  the  purpose  of 
fixing  dates.  The  astronomer  can  extend  his  calcula- 
tions backward  for  thousands  of  years,  and  fix  the  time 
of  every  eclipse  of  the  Sun  or  Moon.  The  historian 
finds  among  the  imperfect  records  of  antiquity  the  state- 
ment, that  a  great  battle  was  fought  at  a  certain  place; 
but  there  is  an  uncertainty  of  three  or  four  years,  it  may 
be,  as  to  the  time.  A  circumstance,  however,  enables 
the  astronomer  to  find  the  time.  It  was  stated  that  there 
was  a  total  eclipse  of  the  Sun  during  the  battle.  He 
examines  the  table  of  eclipses,  and  is  at  once  enabled  to 
fix  the  precise  date  of  the  battle,  for  a  total  eclipse  of  the 
Sun  is  a  very  rare  occurrence    in  any  one  place. 

Mathernatics  ls  a  valuable  adjunct  in  the  Evidences 
of  Christianity.  Mcllvaine  bases  a  strong  argument  in 
favor  of  the  truth  of  Christianity  upon  the  mathemat- 
ical theory   of  probabilities. 

There  is  no  doubt  but  that  Political  Economy  will, 
in  due  time,  be  considered  as  a  branch  of  mathematics, 
and,  even  at  this  time,  no  one  should  attempt  to  write 
on  that  subject,  unless  he  has  had  a  good  deal  of  experi- 
ence in  discussing  the  relations  of  quantities. 

Again,  mathematics  has  done  the  world  great  ser- 
vice in  ridding  it  of  scientific  romances.  Many  a  beau- 
tiful theory  has  become  a  vanishing  quantity  as  soon  as 
mathematics  looks  it  in  the  face.  I  might  proceed  to 
show  that  mathematics  is  useful  in  Geology,  Botany, 
Music,  Fainting  and  Sculpture;  but  let  this  suffice. 

An  individual  may  neglect  mathematics,  but  a  na- 
tion cannot  do  so  and  remain  properous;  this  is  sutricient- 
ly  proved  by  what  has  already  been  said;  and  let  me 
say  there  are  special  reasons    for  encouraging   the  study 


144:  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

of  mathematics  in  this  country.  Ours  is  a  comparative- 
ly new  country ;  our  vast  resources  are  only  very  partial- 
ly developed;  new  roads  are  to  be  built;  new  mines 
opened;  our  rivers  improved;  and  topographical  surveys 
to  be  made. 

These  statements  are  especially  applicable  to  our 
own  great  State.  We  are  doing  all  we  can  in  this  insti- 
tution, to  prepare  young  men  to  do  this  work,  and 
already  some  of  ihe  graduates  of  the  department  of 
Engineering  hold  important  and  responsible  positions  in 
our  river  surveys,  and  we  intend  to  put  more  of  them 
into  such  places.  The  young  men  of  the  West  are  just 
as  good  material,  out  of  which  to  make  skillful  astrono- 
mers and  engineers,  as  those  of  the  East,  and  if  there  is 
a  difference,  it  is  in  our  favor;  and  I  feel  that  if  Mis- 
souri does  not  stand  in  the  front  rank,  it  is  not  for  the 
want  of  ability- 

While  on  the  subject  of  the  practical,  I  will  say 
that  it  is  my  firm  conviction  that  all  scientific  truth  is 
^practical.  We  may  not  be  able  to  see  the  practical 
bearings  of  a  principle  as  soon  as  it  is  discovered ;  but 
you  may  rest  assured  that  some  time  or  other  it  will  be 
applied  to  the  practical  affairs  of  life.  When  the  Greek 
geometers  discovered  the  properties  of  the  ellipse,  they 
could  not  see  that  these  properties  were  of  any  practical 
use.  But  Kepler  proved  that  the  planets  revolve  in 
ellipses  having  the  Sun  in  one  of  the  foci. 

But  let  us  now  return  to  that  young  man  who  was 
excused  from  astronomy  because  he  had  neglected  math- 
ematics. He  would  like  to  know  where  he  shall  go  in 
the  study  of  nature  to  avoid  mathematics.  For  my  part, 
I  cannot  tell  him,  but,  in  Mansfield's  lecture  on  the  Util- 
ity of  Mathematics,  this  very  question  is  answered,  and 
I  here  give  that  answer  in  full :   "Yes,  he  who  would 


LECTURE    OF   PROF.  FICKLIN.  146 

shun  Mathematics  must  fly  the  bounds  of  flaming  space, 
and  in  the  realms  of  chaos,  that 

dark, 

Illimitable  ocean," 
where  Milton's  Satan  wandered  from  the  wrath  of 
heaven,  he  may  possibly  find  some  spot  visited  by  no 
figure  of  geometry,  and  no  iiarmony  of  proportion. 
But  nature,  this  beautiful  creation  of  God,  has  no  resting 
place  for  him.  All  its  construction  is  mathematical',  all 
its  uses  are  reasonable',  all  its  ends  harmonious.  It  has 
no  elements  mixed  without  regulated  law;  no  broken 
chord  to  make  a  false  note  in  the  music  of  the   spheres," 


ER  RATA 


Page  127,  line  1 — quod  instead  of  quad. 

Page  127,  line  8,  from  bottom — "cultivation"  instead  of  "cul- 
tivalion." 

Page  128,  line  14 — "answer"  instead  of  "anwser;"  and  in  last 
line  on  same  page  "form"  instead  of  "from." 

On  same  page,  there  ought  to  be  no  paragraph  at  "At  one 
time  a  writer,"  &c 


THE  THREE  PRONUNCIATIONS  OF  LATIN. 


By    M.  M.  Fisher,    Professor    of    Latin    in     the 
University  of  the  State  of   Missouri. 

The  subject  of  my  lecture  was  "Rome  and  Car- 
thage on  the  Metaurus."  My  time  out  of  the  class- 
room was  employed  in  preparing-  matter  for  the  press, 
and,  as  a  consequence,  the  lecture  was  delivered  extem- 
poraneously. When  the  manuscripts  were  called  for  to 
take  their  places  in  the  present  volume,  leisure  hours 
were  still  occupied  in  the  same  way. 

tin  pronunciation  has  claimed  unusual  attention 
for  year-  past  and  the  discussion  is  likely  to  continue  for 
years  to  come.  The  space  due  my  lecturejw  ill  he  oc- 
cupied with  extracts  from  a  work  just  from  the  press 
entitled,  "The  Three  Pronunciations  of  Latin.'1  ,  1  ne 
hope  is  entertained  that  these  short  extracts  will  not  he 
unacceptable  to  those  who  are  interested  in  a  subject 
that  receives  marked  attention  from  scholars' Tboth  in 
Europe  and  America. 

three  methods  of  pronouncing  Latin  in 

use  in  the  United  .States,  all  of  which  are  regarded  as 
scholarly,  viz.,  the  Continental,  the  Roman,  and  the 
English. 


148  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

THE    CONTINENTAL    SYSTEM. 

It  is  very  common  among  the  advocates  of  the  so- 
called  Roman  method  of  pronouncing  Latin,  to  speak 
of  the  so-called  Continental  system  as  a  "natural  ally"  of 
the  Phonetic  mode;  to  affirm  that  "the  united  forces  of 
the  Roman  and  Continental  methods  are  encroaching  on 
the  narrowing  domains  of  the  English  system.1'  Such 
statements  may  create  a  sympathy  between  the  two  sys- 
tems, but  they  are  not  founded  on  fact,  and  their  ten- 
dency is  to  mislead  those  who  have  not  examined  the 
subject  with  some  care.  Some  ardent  reformers  would 
make  the  impression  that  if  their  system  should  prevail 
in  England  and  America,  then  the  "vexed  question" 
would  be  settled,  and  an  "international  pronunciation" 
would  at  once  become  a  reality.  The  truth  in  the  case 
will  at  once  make  manifest  the  fallacy. 

Harkness  says:  "Strictly  speaking,  there  is  no 
Continental  method."  Bullions  and  Morris  speak  of  it 
as  the  "so-called  Continental  pronunciation."  These 
statements  are  in  accordance  with  the  facts.  For  cen- 
turies the  law  of  nations  has  been  for  each  to  pronounce 
Latin  after  the  analogy  of  its  own  tongue.  As  there  is 
such  variety  on  the  Continent,  some  of  the  ablest 
scholars  in  the  United  States,  who  use  the  so-called  Con- 
tinental mode,  to  make  the  matter  explicit,  state  that 
they  use  the  sounds  of  the  vowels  and  diphthongs  as 
heard  in  the  Italian. 

One  of  the  chief  arguments  for  the  adoption  of 
what  scholars  strangely  enough  call  the  Continental  sys- 
tem, has  been  that  it  would  enable  learned  men,  by 
means  of  a  common  pronunciation,  to  make  themselves 
intelligible  all  over  Europe.  This  idea  of  gramma- 
rians and  others  is  founded  on  an  utter  misapprehen- 
sion of  the  facts.     There  is  not  now,  and  there  has  never 


LECTURE    OF  PROF.  FISHER.  149 

b  i,  any  international  identity  in  the  pronunciation  of 
the  Latin,  and  this  is  especially  true  of  Continental 
Europe.  There  is  a  general  agreement  in  the  vowel 
sounds,  but  in  the  consonants,  which  make  articulate 
speech  what  it  is,  there  is  very  great  diversity  of  sound. 
Each  nation  has  its  own  phase,  of  what  American 
scholars  term  the  Continental  mode.  There  is  the 
French  phase,  the  Spanish  phase,  the  Italian  phase,  the 
Hungarian  phase,  the  Swedish  phase,  and  the  German 
phase;  and,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  there  arc  sharply 
defined  varieties  of  the  Continental  method  in  nse  in 
the  different  German  States.  What  has  just  been  said  is 
a  sample  of  an  actual  state  of  facts  as  existing  on  the 
Continent  at  this  hour.  Esch.mburg,  on  page  550  of  his 
"Classical  Literature,"  says: — 

"It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  the  Frenchman,  Ger- 
man,  and  Italian,  in  pronouncing  Latin,  each  yields  to 
the  analogies  of  his  own  tongue.  Each  of  them  may 
condemn  the  others,  while  each  commits  the  same  error, 
or,  rather,  follows  in  truth  the  same  general  rule. 

"Erasmus  --ays  he  was  present  at  a  levee  of  one  of 
the  German  princes  where  most  of  the  European  am- 
bassadors were  present;  and  it  was  agreed  that  the  con- 
versation should  lie  carried  on  in  Latin.  It  was  so;  but 
you  would  have  thought,  adds  he,  'that  all  Babel  had 
come  together.' "  All  those  speaking  were  using  the 
Continental  method. 

How  the  native  tongue-  on  the  Continent  pro- 
nounce Latin,  after  their  own  analogies,  may  be  seen 
from  a  glance  at  the  Romance  languages  of  Southern 
Europe,  the  French,  Italian,  Portuguese,  and  Spanish,  to 
which  the  Latin  stands  in  the  relation  of  a  common 
progenitor.      The  letters  r,  g,  /,  and  v  will  be  sufficient: 


150  UNIVERSITY    OP   MISSOURI. 

FRENCH.  ITALIAN. 

c=s,  before  e,  i,  and   y.         c=ch  in  cherry,  before  e,  i, 
g=s  in  pleasure,  before  c,  i,         and  y. 

and  y.  g==S"  in  gem. 

j==z  in  azure.  j=ee  in  fee  (a  vowel). 

V==v,  as  in  English.  v=v  in   English. 

PORTUGUESE.  SPANISH. 

c=s,  as  in  French.  c=th  in  pith,  before  e  and  i. 

g=s,  as  in  French.  g— ch  guttural. 

j— z,  as  in  French.  j=ch    guttural,    before    all 

v=v,  as  in  English.  vowels. 

v=v,  as  in  English. 
Notice  the  German  also: 
c=ts  before  e  and  i.  S==S  m  »0, 

V=f.  j=y. 

As  an  example  of  pronunciation  in  the  languages 
named,  take  Cicero: 

French,  Cicevo^Seesayro.     Italian,  Cicevo=C/ieec/zay- 
Portuguese,    Cicero=  See-  ro. 

sayro.  Spanish,     Cicero  =  7'hee- 

German,Cicero=7V<?e/.?<ry-  thayro; 

ro. 

J.  F.  Richardson,  one  of  the  ablest  of  Roman  Lat- 
inists,  uses  the  following  language: 

"In  the  second  j^lace,  it  is  an  entire  mistake  to  speak 
of  the  'Continental  method'  of  pronouncing  Latin. 
There  is,  in  fact,  no  common  Continental  system,  but 
there  are  several  Continental  systems  of  Latin  pronun- 
ciation, e.  g\,  German,  Italian,  French,  Spanish.  These 
four  agree,  to  be  sure,  substantially  in  regard  to  the 
vowels;  but  in  other  important  points  they  differ  decid- 
edly both  from  the  English  and  from  each  other,  most 
of  the  diphthongs  and  some  of  the  most  important  con- 
sonants being  sounded  differently  in  all  five.     The  idea, 


LECTURE  OP   PROF.  FISHER.  151 

therefore,  that  he  who  combines  the  German  vowel 
sounds  with  the  English  dipththongal  and  consonant 
sounds  has  the  Continental  system,  or  any  Continental 
system  of  Latin  pronunciation,  is  simply  absurd. 

"Of  the  six  different  systems  of  Latin  pronuncia- 
tion, then,  prevailing  in  Western  Europe  and  our  own 
country,  five  are  strictly  national.  Their  differences 
find  at  once  an  original  and  an  explanation  in  the  fact 
that  the  scholars  of  each  nation  have  followed,  in  their 
pronunciations  of  Latin,  the  analogies  of  their  own  ver- 
nacular. In  this  way,  while  making  sure  of  mutual  dis- 
agreement, all  have  departed  more  or  less  from  the  true 
Roman  method,  and  the  whole  subject  has  been  involved 
in  uncertainty  and  confusion.  Meanwhile  the  pseudo- 
Continental  system,  destitute  alike  of  historical  dignity 
and  scientific  accuracy,  and  lacking  even  the  po.or  sup- 
port of  national  prejudice  and  pride,  is  powerless  to 
mediate  and  compose  these  differences.  Although  it 
undoubtedly  avoids  some  of  the  grossest  absurdities  pe- 
culiar to  the  English  system,  it  lacks  the  elements  which 
command  respect,  and  can  never  establish  a  claim  to 
universal  adoption  and  use." 

Before  passing  to  the  next  point,  let  attention  be 
carefully  fixed  on  several  facts  indisputably  settled:  i. 
That  no  phase  of  the  Continental  system  of  Europe  pro- 
fesses to  be  the  true  ancient  pronunciation;  2.  That  no 
two  of  them  agree  in  the  sounds  of  the  consonants;  3. 
That  the  so-called  Roman  pronunciation  does  not  agree 
with  a  single  one  of  them  in  either  vowels  or  consonants, 
— as,  for  instance,  Cicero,  pronounced  Kee-ke-ro,  cer- 
tainly differs  from  the  French  See-say -ro,  the  Italian 
Chee-ckay-ro,  the  Spanish  Thee-thay-ro  and  the  Ger- 
man Tseet-say-ro;  4.  That  the  so-called  Roman  differs 
more  widely  from  the  Italian  than  from  the  other  .Ro- 


152  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

mance  tongues, — a  fact  not  a  little  significant  when  we 
remember  that  the  Italian  is  spoken  on  the  very  soil  ren- 
dered almost  sacred  to  the  scholar  by  the  hallowed 
memories  of  the  Latin  language;  5.  That  when  Amer- 
icans use  the  Continental  they  do  not  sound  the  conso- 
nants like  any  nation  or  tribe  on  the  continent  of  Europe. 
They  approximate  the  vowel  sounds  of  the  Continent, 
but  almost  invariably  pronounce  the  consonants  as  in 
English.  Hence  the  so-called  Continental  of  America 
is  a  combination  of  foreign  vowel  sounds  with  conso- 
nants uttered  almost  universally  as  in  English  words. 
Whatever  the  theories  of  teachers  may  be,  this  is  a  stub- 
born practical  fact.  We  have  in  this  country,  therefore, 
the  American  phase  of  the  Continental  method,  the 
conglomerate  variety,  differing  from  every  other  variety 
of  that  system  on  the  globe. 

ROMAN   METHOD. 

Twenty  years  ago  there  were  only  two  methods 
used  in  the  United  States,  the  English  and  the  Conti- 
nental, and  popular  favor  was  rather  with  the  former. 
In  what  is  called  the  Latin,  or  Reformed  mode,  Prof. 
Haldeman,  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  enjoys, 
and  deservedly,  the  reputation  of  being  the  first  explorer. 
His  work  was  published  as  early  as  1851.  That  mode 
now,  however,  is  most  intimately  associated  with  the 
name  of  Corssen,  in  Germany,  and  Roby,  in  England, 
whose  exhaustive  works  would  be  an  honor  to  any  na- 
tion. Both  works  have  been  published  in  the  last  twenty 
years.  Prof.  Lane,  of  Boston,  introduced  the  Roman 
pronunciation  in  New  England,  and  its  introduction  in 
the  South  is  largely  due  to  Prof.  Blair,  of  Hampden 
Sidney,  Virginia,  and  Prof.  Gildersleeve,  of  Johns  Hop- 
kins University,  Baltimore.  Whatever  conquests  that 
system  has  made  anywhere  in  the  world,  have  been 
achieved  within  the  brief  space  of  ten  years  past. ' 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.   FISHER.  158 

But  what  does  this  new  mode  claim?  Why,  it 
claims  to  he  the  genuine  Latin  «mcrhod,  the  true  ancient 
pronunciation  restored ;  to  pronounce  words  as  they  fell 
from  the  lips  of  Cicero,  Virgil  and  Horace.  If  this 
claim  be  well  founded,  then  it  is  no  new  doctrine,  but  a 
very  old  one.  Any  dissent  in  this  treatise  from  the  opin- 
ions of  others,  however  emphatic  the  dissent  may  be,  is 
made  with  the  profoundest  regard  for  the  distinguished 
scholars  who  have  written  in  favor  of  the'Roman  meth- 
od. But  a  system  with  such  pretensions  must  abide,  as  it 
professes  to  do,  the  results  of  the  crucible.  Roby  himself 
in  his  Preface  says:  "An  inquiry  into  classical  Latin  is 
[an  inquiry]  into  a  pronunciation  which  has  not  been 
uttered  by  an  accredited  representative  for  the  last  sev- 
enteen hundred  years."  (Page  30,  edition  of  187 1.) 
Yet  they  have  gone  back  and  brought  down  to  our  day 
a  pronunciation  which  purports  not  to  differ  from  that  of 
Cicero  "more  than  the  pronunciation  of  educated  men  in 
one  part  of  England  would  differ  from  that  heard  in 
other  parts."     (Robv.) 

On  what  are  these  claims  based? 

1.  The  Latin  grammarians:  beginning  with  Varro, 
64  B.  C,  and  coming  down  to  Priscianus  Cajsariensis, 
who  taught  at  Constantinople,  570  A.  D.  In  reference 
to  these  grammarians,  Prof.  Blair,  in  his  introduction, 
says:  "To  whose  instructions  we  must  now  turn,  in 
order  to  gather  by  inference,  and  not  without  great  care 
and  pains,  the  information  which  might  have  been  easily 
and  more  certainly  had  by  spending  an  hour  with  the 
Roman  boys  in  their  elementary  school." 

2.  The  information  gleaned  from  grammarians  is 
compared  with  three  sources  of  probable  proof." 

(a)  The  traditions  of  scholars  and  the  modern  Ro- 
manic languages. 


164  CTNIVBKSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

(b)  The  Greek  mode  of  rendering  Latin  sounds 
into  their  tongue.  The  Greeks  attempted  to  imitate  the 
Latin  sounds  as  perfectly  as  their  letters  would  allow. 

(c)  The  third  probable  proof  is  "the  face  of  the 
language  itself,  as  seen  in  its  records  which  have  been 
preserved  to  us." 

For  these  three  positions  reference  may  be  made  to 
Prof.  Blair's  work,  one  of  the  best  yet  published  on  this 
subject  in  America. 

A  source  of  testimony  much  relied  on  by  Roman 
Latinists  is  the  modern  Romance  languages  of  Southern 
Europe, — a  point  which  shall  receive  proper  attention 
as  we  proceed. 

But  what  kind  of  evidence  is  it  upon  which  these 
lotty  claims  are  based?  The  answer  is,  and  must  in  the 
nature  of  the  case  be,  "Probable  evidence." 

It  is  not  at  all  our  design  in  this  discussion  to  under- 
value probable  or  moral  evidence.     Far  from  it. 

The  countless  facts  of  history,  of  the  sciences,  and 
of  Christianity  itself  rest  on  this  kind  of  proof. 

The  human  mind  is  so  constituted  as  to  rest  with  as 
much  confidence  in  probable  evidence  of  the  degree  of 
moral  certainty  as  in  demonstrative  or  mathematical  evi- 
dence. We  do  not  object  to  the  so-called  Roman 
method  because  its  basis  is  moral  evidence,  as  from  the 
nature  of  the  case  it  can  admit  of  no  other  kind,  but  be- 
cause it  is  destitute  of  that  measure  of  evidence  of  this 
kind  which  would  entitle  it  to  our  acceptance;  and  our 
critics  who  drew  a  contrary  meaning  from  our  words 
fell  into  very  strange  misapprehensionsions  of  statements 
designed  to  be  plain  to  all,  viz.: 

Probable  evidence  presents  various  degrees  of  strength.  In 
the  lowest  form,  it  warrants  only  presumption  ;  in  the  highest  de- 
gree, it  warrants  moral  certainty.     In  the  face  of  the  -conflicting 


LECTURE  OF   PROF.  FISHER.  155 

opinions  and  difficulties  to  be  shown  hereafter,  no  scholar  can 
make  the  least  pretension  that  the  resurrected  system  rests  on  any- 
such  basis  as  moral  certainty  Far  from  it.  Man}'  points  are 
destitute  of  even  presumptive  evidence  in  their  support. 

What  we  object  to  is  the  hasty  position  taken  by 
some  enthusiastic  scholars  that  there  has  already  been 
made  out  even  the  lowest  grade  of  probable  evidence, 
even  a  mere  presumption,  in  favor  of  the  so-called 
Roman  method  over  the  Continental  or  English,  which 
at  once  decides  the  question,  and  ail,  nolens  volens,  must 
logically  fall  into  the  ranks  of  the  Roman  Latinists  and 
flout  all  who  dare  to  differ  and  refuse  to  enter  their  air- 
castles,  built  or  unvindicated,  as  wanting  in  logic  and  in 
regard  for  moral  evidence.  Such  pretensions  are  hasty 
and  unwarranted.  We  affirm  boldly  and  explicitly, 
and  hold  ourselves  responsible  to  prove,  that  while 
some  parts  of  the  resurrected  system,  but  not  peculiar 
to  it,  present  a  plausible  claim  to  authenticity,  oth- 
er and  essential  parts  are  groundless,  perplexing,  and 
violently  improbable.  Instead  of  the  new  system  being 
established  in  the  judgment  of  the  classic  world,  as  is 
urged  in.  certain  quarters,  its  ablest  advocates  in  Europe 
and  America  concede  that  some  of  its  features  are 
wholly  unsettled.  And  yet  the  men  who  hold  this  po- 
sition are  the  very  men  who  have  the  right  to  recogni- 
tion as  the  leading  spirits  in  this  reform  movement. 
Some  of  those  who  are  the  most  positive  in  their  lan- 
guage are  least  known  as  classical  scholars. 

We  now  find  ourselves  face  to  face  with  two  or 
three  questions  which  are  entirely  distinct:  I.  Do  we 
know  the  true  ancient  pronunciation  of  Latin?  2.  Shall 
we  adopt  the  so-called  Roman  system?  3.  A  third 
question  also  is  pertinent,  If  the  new  mede  rested  on  a 
universally  acknowledged  foundation  of  moral  certainty, 


156  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

should  it  be  adopted  by  English-speaking  people? 
Most  unhesitatingly  and  unequivocally  Ave  answer, 
"No,"  to  all  three  of  these  interrogations.  These  in- 
quiries put  the  case  so  plainly  before  the  reader  that 
it  is  hoped  no  one  will  misunderstand  it.  In  regai-d 
to  the  first  inquiry,  Do  we  know  the  true  pronunci- 
ation? the  distinguished  Latinist  of  Yale  College,  Prof. 
Thacher,  in  his  Pretace  to  Madvig's  Grammar,  af- 
firms :  "How  the  Romans  themselves  pronounced  their 
language  is  not  known,  nor  can  it  ever  be  known. 
Scholars  may  not  agree  in  opinion  in  respect  to  the  ex- 
tent of  this  ignorance;  but  if  it  were  in  itself  very  lim 
ited,  pertaining,  for  instance,  only  to  the  sound  of  a  single 
letter,  it  might  with  reason  be  made  an  objection  to  any 
attempt  to  imitate  the  original  pronunciation  of  the  lan- 
guage; for  the  number  of  distinct  sounds  is  so  small  in 
such  a  language  as  the  Latin  or  our  own,  that  every  one 
of  them  runs  like  a  thread  through  every  page,  and  con- 
stitutes an  important  element  of  it.  The  difficulties 
which  attend  this  subject  are  inherent  in  it,  are  such  that 
there  is  no  nation  in  Europe,  the  classical  scholars  of 
which  agree  in  claiming  that  they  can  reproduce  the  pro- 
nunciation of  the  Roman  forum,  or  in  attempting  to  do 
so."  Haldeman,  on  page  iS  of  his  "Affixes  to  English 
Words,"  says,  "The  Latin  alphabet  is  composed  of  the 
following  twenty  letters,"  naming  them,  and  holding 
that  only  nine,  B,  D,  F,  H,  N,  P,  Q,  T,  X,  had  the 
same  power  as  in  English.  But  suppose  there  is  one 
sound,  like  the  dipthomx  se  or  ce,  running  "like  a  thread 
through  every  page,"  and  in  a  multitude  of  words 
which  is  not  known  and  about  which  there  is  a  variety 
of  opinions,  will  any  man  affirm  that  we  know  the  pro- 
nunciation of  a  language  when  this  multitude  of  words 
contains  an  unknown  or  at  least  a  perplexing  and  unset- 


LECTURE  OF   PROF.    FISHER.  157 

tied  sound,  and  yet  eleven  unknown  sounds  are  conceded? 

WANT    OF    HARMONY    AMONG   THE   ADVOCATBS    OF    THE 
REFORMED  MODE. 

That  the  reformers  do  not  agree  among  themselves 
on  some  very  important  points  is  universally  conceded, 
and  is  a  matter  claiming  at  the  hands  of  every  inquirer 
the  most  serious  thought.  Prof.  Twining  (  Western, 
July-August,  p.  417)  uses  this  language:  "That  the 
advocates  of  the  reformed  pronunciation  differ  among 
themselves  is  of  graver  import,  since  if  these  differences 
are  on  vital  points  as  Prof.  Fisher  claims,  they  not  only 
discredit  the  evidence,  but  render  impossible  that  uni- 
formity of  practice  which  it  is  one  of  the  chief  objects 
of  the  reform  to  secure."  The  consequence  of  a  differ- 
ence in  vital  points  is  well  put  by  Prof.  Twining-  Let 
us  examine  some  of  these  differences. 

1.  There  is  no  harmony  in  their  representation  of 
the  vowel  sounds  in  general.  Just  here  it  should  be 
carefully  borne  in  mind  that  the  reformers  insist  that 
their  system  is  phonetic.  Then  "each  elementary  sound 
had  its  own  unvarying  sign,  and  each  sign  its  own  unva- 
rying sound."  This  is,  according  to  Prof.  March,  the 
essential  idea  of  a  phonetic  alphabet;  this,  then,  is  con- 
ceded to  be  our  criterion  of  judgment.  Haldeman, 
quoting  with  approval  G.  Walker,  says:  "Every  letter 
retained  an  invariable  sound."  Quoting  from  Scheller, 
he  says:  "The  sound  of  the  long  and  short  vowels, 
though  elementarily  the  same,  were  always  distinguished 
in  length."  (Haldeman's  Latin  Pronunciation,  pp.  17, 
19.)  Allen  and  Greenough  say,  "By  the  Roman  (or 
phonetic)  method,  every  letter  has  always  the  same 
sound."  (Grammar,  p.  7.)  These  are  explicit  state- 
ments of  what  is  held  by  the  new  "Romans"  throughout 
the  world.  The  vowels  did  differ  in  quantity,  they  did 
not  differ  in  quality. 


158  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

Haldeman  holds  that : — 
Long  a=a  in  arm.  Short  a=a  in  art. 

"      e=ey  in  they.  "     e=ei  in  eight. 

"      i=i  in  marine.  "     i=i  in  deceit. 

"      0=0  in  own.  "     0=0  in  obey. 

"      u=oo  in  fool.  "     u=u  in  full. 

Here   in   this   ideal  scheme,  the  phonetic  theory   is 
substantially  carried  out. 

Compare  with  this  Tafel's  scheme,  which  is  identi- 
cal, at  least  professedly  so,  with  that  of  Corssen. 
Long  a=a  in  father.  Short  a=same  sound  shorter. 

"      e=a  in  fate.  "      e=e  in  then. 

"      i=i  in  machine.  "      i=i  in  sit. 

"      0=0  in  hole.  "      0=0  in  nor. 

"      u=u  in  rude.  "     u=u  in  put. 

A  glance  at  this  ideal  scheme  will  show  that  it  is  not 
consistent  with  the  theory  in  the   short  sounds  of  e,  i ,  o 
and  u.      E  in   then,  i  in   sit,  o  in    nor,  and  it  in   put   have 
not  the  same  sound  as  a  in  fate,  i  in  machine,  o   in   hole, 
and  u  in  rude.     These   words,  as   the  least  practised  ear 
can   detect,  differ    not  only  in   quantity,  but   radically  in 
quality.     A  glance  too    reveals  the    obvious    truth  that 
Haldeman — and  J.    F.    Richardson   agrees   with   him — 
does  not  agree  with  Tafel  and   Corssen,  in    representing 
the  short  sounds  of  0,  /,  and  e.     Who  does  not  see  that 
ei  in   eight,  i  in    deceit  and   o  in   obey,  are   not  the  same 
as  e  in  then,  i  in  sit,  and  o  in  nor?     If  scholars  on  the 
side   of  the   new   pronunciation  believe  in   the  phonetic 
method  and  understand  it  alike,  then  failure  to  represent 
it   harmoniously,  even  in    their  ideal   schemes,  is  simply 
unpardonable.     Roby   tells  us   that  o  long=6>  in  home, 
and  o  shprt=<?  in  clot.     Blair,   that   o  long=<?  in    potent, 
and  0  short=e>  in  potation.     Roby  tells  us  that  e  h>n»'=<e 
in  met,   lengthened,   and    that  c  short=t'  in  met.      Blair, 
that  long  e=a  in  gate,  and  short  c=a  in  aerial. 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.  FISHER.  159 

We  would  fix  emphatic  attention  on  two  things  that 
are  self-evident:  i.  That  these  distinguished  scholars  do 
not  agree  with  each  other;  2.  That  their  exhibition  of 
their  favorite  pronunciation,  as  shown  in  many  writers, 
is  not  consistent  with  their  oft- repeated  theory.  Any 
one  who  has  any  doubts  as  to  the  correctness  of  the 
statements  here  made  is  earnestly  requested  and  urged  to 
examine  the  subject  for  himself. 

Before  leaving  this  general  want  of  harmony  in  re- 
gard to  vowel  sounds,  long  and  short,  it  is  worth  while 
to  notice  how  the  followers  of  the  so-called  Roman 
method  exhibit  to  us  the  long  sounds  of  the  vowels. 

Blair  affirms  that  e  long=«  in  gate. 

Roby,  that  c  long=e  in  met,  lengthened. 

W.  G.  Richardson,  in  the  Report  published  by  the 
Bureau  of  Education,  says  that  e  long=the  French  e, 
or  e  in  met,  still  more  prolonged  than  e  in  tres.  He 
speaks  of  fate  as  being  "a  convenient  approximate 
sound."  In  his  "International,"  published  in  Decem- 
ber, 1877,  he  gives  e  long=<?  in  fate.  Now  we  confess 
our  utter  inability  to  understand  how  this  able  scholar, 
by  the  prolongation  of  the  sound  of  e  in  met,  to  any 
extent,  can  reach  as  a  result  a  in  fate.  Any  one  can  test 
the  matter  by  bringing  to  bear  the  organs  of  speech  on 
the  production  of  the  two  sounds.  Before  the  speaker, 
when  sounding  e  in  met,  can  produce  the  sound  of  a  in 
fate,  he  must  stop  and  readjust  the  organs.  The  trial 
will  make  manifest  the  truth  that  there  is  not  only  a  re- 
adjust mem,  but  also  a  tension  of  the  organs  decidedly 
greater  in  sounding  our  genuine  long  or,  which  almost 
all  the  Romans  make  the  representative  of  the  long  <?,  in 
their  system. 

But  to  descend  more  to  particulars,  take  the  diph- 
thong se. 


160  UNIVERSITY    OP    MISSOURI. 

Roby  says  os=a  in  bat  (lengthened),  or  bath. 

Blair  says  ce=ai  in  lair,  or  a  in  late. 

Harkness  says,  <?=aye=English  /. 

Gildersleeve  says,  ce=ce  in  Gra3me=a  in  fame. 

That  the  vowel  sounds  as  heard  in  bat,  late,  and  aye 
=i  long,  are  not  the  same,  is  simply  beyond  all  contro- 
versy. We  venture  the  assertion  that  no  scholar,  unless 
a  foreigner,  who  looks  at  the  case  calmly,  will  risk  his 
reputation  as  an  orthoepist  by  affirming  that  these  words 
•do  contain  the  same  sound. 

But  why  undertake  to  prove  a  want  of  harmony 
among  those  who  insist  on  reform,  when  the  fact  is  not 
only  virtually  but  really  confessed  by  some  of  the  most 
enlightened  defenders  of  the  new  system?  For  instance, 
the  writer  last  quoted  makes  this  admission:  "Since 
phonetically,  e  lies  between  a  and  i,  this  difficulty  seems 
to  me  to  belong  to  the  class  of  those  to  be  settled  by 
time,  much  in  the  same  way  as  the  dispute  must  be  de- 
cided between  English  and  American  "half."1''  Make  a 
note  of  it  that  he  confesses  there  is  a  difficulty  to  be  set- 
tled by  time.  This  is  an  ingenuous  and  truthful  confes- 
sion, and  one  that  ought  to  be  made  by  every  Roman 
Latinist  in  America.  There  is  no  escaping  it.  Our 
point  is  made;  there  is  a  hopeless  want  of  harmony 
upon  the  above  issues  which  are  vital  to  a  phonetic  sys- 
tem. The  hope  of  a  future  harmony  might  be  allowed 
were  we  dealing  with  an  ideal  case,  but,  unfortunately 
for  the  Romanist,  our  business  in  this  discussion  is  with 
the  past,  to  whose  crystallized  forms  no  additions  of  im- 
portance are  likely  to  be  made  and  from  whose  dead 
organisms  the  vocalization  of  living  utterance  has  for- 
ever fled.  The  confusion  of  those  ideal  schemes  leaves 
us  in  a  state  of  bewilderment  from  which,  it  would 
appear,  nothing  less  than   the  resurrection   of  a   Roman 


LECTURE   OK    PROF.   FISHER.  161 

more  perfectly  representing  the  native  language  than 
even  Cicero  or  Varro,  if  the  Latin  was  settled  hi  its 
phonetics,  would  be  able  to  release  us. 

When  reduced  to  practice  in  the  class-room,  observe 
how  these  differences  become '  painfully  evident.  For 
illustration,  take  the  nominative  plural  of  bora,  haric : — 

llora?.=//oe-ray.      Blair,  Gildersleeve,  and  others. 

Hone=/ioe-/-\'c.     Harkness,  Richardson  and  others. 

Hwa?=koe-ra/i.    A=a  in  ha.\f=a  in  father.    Rol'v. 

Prof.  W.  G.  Richardson,  in  criticising  the  "Three 
Pronunciations  of  Latin,"  makes  this  significant  admis- 
sion: U-Ji  is  rather  bad,  but  by  no  means  a  Canine." 
Coming  from  such  a  careful  and  accomplished  scholar 
as  fie  is,  this  means  something. 

Blair  gives  oe=o  in  world  <>r  i  in  whirl. 

Gildersleeve,  oe=-ae  in  Graeme=tf  in  fame. 

Harkness,  oe~=oi  in  coin=C'/  in  coil. 

Haldeman,  oe=vowel  sound  in  showy; 
and  says:    "If  showy    anil    clayev    were    monosyllables 
they  would   contain  the  Latin   oe  and  e/."      Among    oth- 
ers, "he  quotes  these  two  lines  from  "Living  Latin": 

"To  these-  we  arid  that  English  words  like  "showy" 
Contain  the  Portuguese  and  Latin  "a;." 

[s  the  vowel  sound  in  world,  fame,  coil,  and  showy 
the  same?  Surely  not.  The  differences  thrust  them- 
selves on  even  a  casual  observer.  But  what  do  the  ad- 
vocate-- of  the  new  system  say  about  this?  Roby  -ays, 
comparing  the  Latin  and  Greek  oe  and  oi,  "But  the 
Latin  sound  is  much  more  doubtful."  Again,  "The 
sound  of  oe  is  somewhat  perplexing."'  lie  finally  con- 
clude^ thai  the  stress  should  be  laid  on  th«  a  rather  than 
on  the  c.  Peile  says,  "The  nearest  sound  we  have  is 
perhaps  thai  of 'bov.' "  The  word  is  perhaps.  Prof. 
Twining   is  still  more  to  the   purpose  when  he  uses  this 


162  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

language:  "I  do  not  wish  to  underrate  the  differences  in 
these  two  cases  {ae  and  oe),  especially  as  I  have  within  a 
few  years  changed  my  own  practice  and  accepted  proba- 
bly archaic,  but  distinctive  sounds  as  having  better  claims 
in  theory  than  the  past  classical  corruptions,  and  as  being 
preferable  in  practice  to  such  intermediate  sounds  as 
English  organs  do  not  easily  make.'"  Here  the  want  of 
harmony  insisted  on  is  confessed,  and  a  change  in  prac- 
tice is  frankly  admitted.  How  does  Prof.  W.  G.  Rich- 
ardson meet  the  difficulty  r  Here  is  his  answer:  "Oeis 
not  worth  a  pinch  of  Napoleon's  snuff,  especially  since 
our  revised  orthography  has  expunged  it  from  those  oft- 
recurring  words  coehcm,  poenitet,  co'ena,  etc.'"  Truly, 
this  modern  Alexander  wields  a  Damascus  blade  in  cut- 
ting his  Gordian  knots  in  the  Latin  pronunciation.  If 
the  reformers  can  only  eliminate  oe  from  the  language, 
then  truly  this  one  difficulty  has  been  removed.  Will. 
Mayor  and  Robv,  Haldeman  and  Blair,  and  others,  meet 
a  difficulty  in  this  way?  We  venture  a  decisive  nega- 
tive. But  Prof.  Richardson  (Courier-  Joiima/,  April) 
says:  "A  brand-new  type  of  philology  has  been  let 
loose  on  this  planet,  a  thing  of  life  and  joy  forever." 
Yes,  and  an  infinite  pity  it  has  been  let  loose  at  all,  if  it 
proposes  to  remove  difficulties  in  the  way  indicated 
above.  This  accomplished  linguist  does  not  propose  to 
settle  all  disputed  questions  in  this  manner.  It  may  be, 
however,  that  this  is  a  philological  pleasantry.  The 
truth  of  history  entitles  us  to  expect  of  antiquarians  that 
the  monuments  of  the  past  shall  not  be  mutilated  or 
transmuted  so  as  to  respond  to  modern  notions,  as  thereby 
their  actual  value  as  teaching  monuments  is  destroyed. 

Schliemann  does  not  venture  to  change  the  relics  he 
finds  in  Hissarlik  or  Mycenae,  but  simply  reports  them 
as  they  are,  whether  he  understands  them  or  not.  Were 


LECTURE  OF    PROF.    FISHER.  165 

these  diphthongs  transmitted  from  the  ancient  Latin  as 
unintelligible  as  the  whorls  Schliemann  finds,  as  viewed 
in  their  relation  to  ancient  Aryan  customs,  still  historic 
piety  must  dictate  their  literal  preservation. 

The  enigmas  of  the  past  are  not  to  be  trampled  un- 
der our  teet,  nor  rudely  pushed  aside,  as  we  know  not 
what  revelations  may  ultimately  be  made  to  us  through 
the  very  perplexities  to  which  they  give  rise. 

The  difference  in  regard  to  oe,  indicated  above,  will 
appear  in  pronouncing  the  word  coelum. 

Coelum=£#y  -  loom  (u=vowel  sound  in  whirl.) 
Blair. 

Coe\uva=kay-loom  (a— a  in  fate).     Gildersleeve. 

Coe\um=koy-loom  (oy=oi  in  coil).     Tafel,  etc. 

Coe\um=koivy-loo?n  (owy=owy  in  showy).  Hal- 
deman. 

Again,  notice  the  difference  of  opinion  and  usage  in 
regard  to  the  letter  v.  The  question  among  the  new 
"Romans"  is  whether  v  shall  be  pronounced  like  w  or 
like  the  labio-dental  v.  Unquestionably  the  difference  is 
a  wide  one,  and  rests  mainly  on  diverse  phonetic  theo- 
ries. The  two  parties  among  the  Romanists,  resting  on 
diverse  theories,  have  from  the  beginning  held  their 
ground  so  tenaciously  as  to  render  agreement  simply 
impossible.  Difference  in  theory,  and  also  in  usage,  is 
confessed  by  all  scholars  throughout  the  world.  Hence 
it  seems  wholly  unnecessary  to  discuss  this  point  at  any 
length.  Those  wishing  to  examine  the  matter  may  re- 
fer to  Roby's  Grammar,  Pcile's  Greek  and  Latin  Ety- 
mology, and  Prof.  Twining's  article  in  The  Western, 
already  mentioned.  A  very  brief  examination  will 
verify  the  remark  of  A.  J.  Ellis,  in  his  work  on  "Early 
English  Pronunciation":  "The  sound  of  v  in  ancient 
Latin  is  a  matter  of  dispute." 


164  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

Gildersleeve  says  the  sound  was  nearer  our  w  than 
v,  and  still  more  like  on  in  the  French  out  (we). 

Blair  gives  as  a  result  of  his  investigations,  that  v 
=English  i',  when  it  began  a  word  or  syllable;  but  after 
s,  g,  and  q,  and  followed  by  a  vowel,  it  had  the  sound  of 
-w,  e.  g.:— 

Validus=  val-i-dii  s. 

V  u  1  g  u  s— : >  k  l-g  u  s . 

Servu&r=ser-vus.     V=English  \ . 

But  sua\is=s'wa-vzs. 

Lingua===Zz#-^rwa. 

Quamquam=^7Ww-(/w«w. 

Roby  gives  v  invariably  the  sound  oi  iv.  He  uses 
these  words  bv  way  of  illustration: 

{lYex\=kreh-ii're=cra\'~zccr. 

J  ovis=  l'o-wees. 

Civitates=>£ ee-tvee-tah-tace. 

V e.nv=-veh-}?ee=zva  y-//ec . 

Vidi==wee-dee. 

\M&=,wee-kee.  (See  Blair's  Pronunciation  and 
Roby's  Grammar.) 

r=English  v.     Tafel. 

v=tv.     Bartholomew. 

r=English  v.     J.  F.   Richardson. 

v=7V.     W-  G.  Richardson. 

Corssen  seems  inclined  to  the  belief  that  v  some- 
times sounds  like  our  v.  (Roby,  p.  43.)  As  might  be 
expected,  usage  in  the  American  schools  lays  no  claim 
to  uniformity. 

But  pause  a  moment.  Some  of  the  Continental  na- 
tions cannot  make  the  sound  of  w  at  all,  hence  if  Eng- 
lish and  American  scholars  insist  on  sounding  v=,wi 
then  the  idea  that  the  Reformed  Pronunciation  is  to  be- 
come universal  is  worse  than   Utopian:  ay,  it  is  a  physi- 


LECTURK    OF  PROP.  FISHER.  165 

cal  impossibility  over  a  large  part  of  Continental  Europe. 
If  the  enthusiastic  reformers  are  right  and  have  found 
and  resurrected  the  real  Ancient  Pronunciation,  is  it 
not  a  pity  that  whole  nations,  some  of  them  the  most 
learned  on  earth,  will  never  be  able  to  use  it?  In  French, 
Spanish,  Portuguese  and  Italian,  v=v  in  English.  These 
languages  look  back  to  a  common  ancestor,  the  stately 
and  imperial  Latin,  but  they  can  never  fully  utilize  the 
results  of  this  "new  philology  that  has  been  let  loose"  in 
the  last  twenty-five  years. 

This  perilous  condition  of  affairs  is  relieved  by  the 
proposition  of  A.  J.  Ellis  (Academy,  No.  19),  who  ad- 
vises that  English  speakers  of  Latin  should  not  pro- 
nounce v  like  w,  because  it  is  needless  to  adopt  a  sound 
which  Continental  nations  cannot  produce.  Whatever 
their  theories  may  be,  though  demonstrated,  whatever 
their  arguments  may  be,  even  it  unanswerable,  those 
who  hold  that  v=w,  must  abandon  their  ground,  sacri- 
fice the  results  of  laborious  research,  and  adapt  them- 
selves to  nature's  order  of  things  on  the  Continent. 
Thus  only  can  uniformity  be  attained  with  the  Romanic 
nations.  Is  it  not  a  little  strange  that  these  nations  have 
lost  the  power  of  uttering  one  of  the  sounds  used  by  a 
common  progenitor?  Let  it  be  remembered  here,  that 
those  who  urge  that  v=w,  tell  us  that  they  are  produc- 
ing the  sounds  as  they  fell  from  the  lips  of  Cicero,  Vir- 
gil, and  Horace. 

To  return  to  our  proposition.  At  present,  there  is 
no  harmony.  If  harmony  is  ever  to  be  realized  in  the 
future,  one  party  in  this  controversv  over  v  must  aban- 
don their  ground,  whether  right  or  wrong.  As  the  case 
now  stands,  some  phases  of  the  discussion  are  not  far 
removed  from  the  ludicrous.  Either  English  and  Amer- 
ican scholars  must  abandon  v— w,  or  the  Continental 
nations  must  learn  to  pronounce  w. 


166  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

There  are  other  differences,  not  so  striking  it  may 
be,  but  such  as  demand  consideration  on  the  part  of  those 
who  have  adopted  the  "Roman  reform"  and  especially 
on  the  part  of  those  whose  faith,  under  the  eloquent  and 
daring  intrepidity  of  the  reformers,  has  been  at  all 
shaken  as  to  the  comparative  fixedness  and  superiority 
of  the  English  system. 

The  following,  from  the  principal  of  Eton  College, 
Windsor,  England,  dated  Feb.  8,  1879,  contains  infor- 
mation and  arguments  of  the  highest  value  to  all  Eng- 
lish-speaking people: 

Eton  College,  Windsor,  England,  Feb.  8,  1879. 

Dear  Sir: — We  have  made  no  change  in  the  pronunciation 
of  Latin  in  Eton.  A  movement  was  set  on  foot  a  few  years  ago 
for  bringing  in  a  new  system  of  pronunciation;  and  the  Latin 
professors  at  Oxford  and  Cambridge  drew  up  a  syllabus,  based  on 
the  best  knowledge  of  the  day.  This  attempt  to  revert  to  the  old 
pronunciation  of  their  language  in  its  best  days  has  a  great  inter- 
est doubtless  for  scholar*,  but  its  use  in  the  practical  teachings  of 
the  language  to  boys  is  by  no  means  evident;  and  though  for  a 
time  it  found  some  favor,  I  think  it  is  on  the  decline  in  England. 
It  seems  open  to  these  objections: 

1  st.  That  our  knowledge  is  far  too  meagre  to  enable  us  really 
to  recover  the  old  pronunciation  of  Latin  as  it  existed  (say)  in  the 
time  of  Cicero. 

2nd.  That  there  seems  to  be  but  little  hope  of  inducing  other 
nations  to  adopt  any  such  scheme  as  that  proposed  by  the  two 
professors. 

3rd.  That  the  introduction  of  a  new  pronunciation  would 
add  to  the  difficulties  of  the  early  stages  in  teaching  Latin. 

4th.  That  there  would  be  something  painfully  incongruous 
in  attempting  the  pronunciation  of  Latin  without  altering  that  of 
Greek;  and  there  seems  to  be  almost  insuperable  difficulties  in 
adopting  the  modern  Greek  pronunciation  in  English  schools. 

5th.  That  though  in  following  the  general  practice  of  foreign 
nations,  which  is  to  pronounce  these  dead  languages  according  to 
the  laws  of  their  own  living  tongue,  we  in  England  are  doubtless 
further  from  the  true  pronunciation  than  the  Italians,  or  even  the 


LECTURE   OF  PROF.  FICKLIN.  167 

Germans  (not  to  mention  others),  no  practical  inconvenience 
seems  to  result  from  this,  except  the  difficulty  of  speaking  intelli- 
gibly to  a  foreigner  in  Latin, — a  difficulty  which  is  not  often  felt, 
and  which  would  not  be  obviated  or  greatly  diminished  by  adopt- 
ing the  new  pronunciation.  I  cannot  help  also  feeling  that  there 
is  a  sort  of  pedantry  in  having  one  pronunciation  of  such  names 
at;  Cicero  or  Virgil  for  a  school  lesson,  and  another  for  the  inter- 
course of  ordinary  life;  and  I  doubt  whether  the  new  system 
would  ever  take  root  in  general  society.  I  believe  that  on  the 
whole  the  more  thoughtful  and  liberal-minded  men  at  Oxford,  to 
speak  of  my  own  university  which  I  know  best,  are  not  favorable 
to  the  abandonment  of  our  presenf  system. 

Believe  me,  dear  sir.  very  truly  ever, 

J.  I.  Hornby 
Professor   M.   M.  .Fisher, 

University  of  Missouri,  Columbia,  United  States. 

THE    ENGLISH    SYSTEM. 

Of  the  twelve  extended  reasons  for  the  use  of  the 
English  mode,  space  will   allow  extracts  from  two  only. 

Ten  years  ago  I  entered  upon  an  investigation  of 
the  so-called  Roman  method  with  a  view  to  substituting 
it  for  the  English,  if  the  new  system  should  be  found  to 
rest  on  a  basis  of  truth.  This  examination  has  continued 
until  the  present,  using  all  the  helps  that  have  come 
from  the  pens  of  able  scholars  both  in  Europe  and 
America;  the  conclusion  reached  in  these  pages,  there- 
fore, is  the  result  of  careful  reading  and  study,  and  the 
preference  given  to  the  settled  English  pronunciation  is 
the  one  that  has  been  forced  upon  me  by  the  stubborn 
facts  on  both  sides  of  the  question. 

Let  it  be  clearly  understood  that  no  one  claims  that 
the  English  method  is  the  true  ancient  pronunciation  of 
the  Latin  language,  though  it  has  been  used  for  three 
hundred  years  in  England.  Let  it  be  admitted  that  the 
so-called  Roman  system,  as  advocated  by  Corssen  and 
Roby,  sandy  as  its  baus  is,  at  least  in  vital  parts  is  theo 


168  UNIVERSITY    Ol'    MISSOURI. 

rcticallv  correct.  Let  its  claims,  based  largely  on  proba- 
bilities, all  be  conceded;  still,  admitting  the  correctness 
of  a  theory  and  reducing  that  theory  to  practice  are  rad- 
ically and  vitally  different.  My  position  is,  therefore, 
most  unhesitatingly  taken  that  for  English-speaking  peo- 
ple the  English  pronunciation  is  the  best.  Some  of  the 
reasons  will  be  briefly  stated: 

i.  The  last  edition  of  Webster's  Dictionary  claims 
120,000  words.  Of  these,  according  to  the  highest 
authority,  only  about  23,000  are  of  Anglo-Saxon  origin. 
De  Vere  (page  43)  says  that  the  English  is  the  only 
European  idiom  that  so  combines  the  classic  and  Gothic 
elements  as  to  make  the  Gothic  the  basis  and  the  Latin 
the  superstructure. 

According  to  Prof.  Whitney,  in  his  "Life  and 
Growth  of  Language,11  nearly  five  sevenths  of  the  words 
contained  in  our  large  dictionaries  are  of  classical  deri- 
vation and  only  about  two  sevenths  native  Germanic. 
Far  the  greater  part  are  from  the  Latin.  The  same 
author  says  that  our  scientific  and  philosophical  vocabu- 
lary comes  mainly  from  the  Latin. 

The  number  of  words  derived  from  the  Greek  is 
-considerable,  especially  in  scientific  use,  but  far  less  than 
from  the  Latin.  Take  some  of  the  richest  Latin  pre- 
fixes found  in  our  language.  With  co  or  con  as  a  pre- 
fix, we  have  5,600  words,  in  or  im,  2,900;  re,  2,200;  di 
or  dis,  r,Soo;  ad,  1,600;  de,  1,600;  sub,  700;  pre,  700; 
pro,  600;  per,  3^0.  From  the  single  root  fac  we  have 
about  604  derivatives,  according  to  Prof.  Haldeman. 
(See  his  "Affixes,11  pp.  14-16.) 

The  author  last  emoted  is  of  the  opinion  that  there 
are  not  three  hundred  roots  in  any  language.  ("Affixes," 
p.  13.)  In  view  of  the  fact  that  such  a  vast  majority  of 
our  words  are   from    the    Latin,  either   mediately   or  im- 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.  FISHEB.  169 

mediately,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  of  these  three  hun- 
dred stems  very  many  are  from  the  same  classie  tongue, 
we  are  vitally  interested  in  recognizing  the  prefixes  and 
stems  which  make  our  English  what  it  is.  It  matters 
not  whether  the  English  system  of  pronouncing  Latin 
has  been  used  one  hundred  years,  three  hundred  years, 
or  one  thousand  years :  what  we  are  concerned  with  is 
that  the  English  language  as  it  is  now  stands  has  been 
founded  on  the  old-fashioned  pronunciation  of  Latin, 
This  is  indisputably  true.  Philologic  and  antiquarian 
research  is  one  thing;  the  progress  of  a  language,  like 
that  of  nations,  is  quite  a  different  thing. 

For  centuries  the  Latin  has  been  making  its  rich 
contributions  to  our  noble  English.  These  additions  to 
our  language  are  being  made  to-day,  as  they  will'  be 
made  in  the  future,  and  that  from  necessity.  One  thing 
of  inestimable  value  to  every  student  is  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  his  mother  tongue — a  matter  sadly  neg- 
lected in  many  of  our  colleges  and   universities. 

The  question  for  English-speaking  people  to  settle 
is  as  to  which  pronunciation  leads  most  directly  to  a  vig- 
orous and  thorough  use  of  our  mother  tongue.  We 
answer  unhesitatingly,  the  English.  Let  us  have  one 
thing  at  a  time.  The  bearing  of  the  new  pronunciation 
on  comparative  philologv  will  receive  due  attention 
hereafter.  Now  we  are  concerned  with  the  vernacular. 
Prof.  Haldeman  says:  "Sounds  and  not  letters  furnish 
the  material  for  etymology."  This  is  true,  and  we  wish 
no  better  basis  for  our  present  argument.  The  English 
method  assists  the  student,  even  in  his  early  Latin  course, 
in  his  etymology;  and  the  derivation  of  words,  in  a 
multitude  of  instances,  becomes  manifest  from  the  very 
pronunciation  itself.  Take  the  word  circumjacent,  lor 
example,  from  cireumjaceo.     Pronouncing  this  word  by 


170  UNIVEK6ITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

the  English  method,  sur-cum-ja-se-o,  at  once  reveals  to 
the  pupil  the  origin  of  circumjacent.  The  likeness  is 
clear  even  to  a  child. 

But  pronounce  the  .same  word  by  the  Roman  sys- 
tem, and  circumjaceo  becomes-  keer-koom-yah-ke-o  / 
The  connection  can  be  seen  only  by  advanced  scholars, 
and  is  very  likely  not  seen  then.  Take  the  words  rup- 
ture, rustic,  social,  rumination,  from  ruptum,  rusticus, 
socius.  and  ruminatio.  When  these  Latin  words  are 
pronounced  by  the  English  mode  the  origin  of  the  word 
is  clear;  but  let  the  Latin  be  pronounced  roop-toom, 
roos-tee-coos,  so-kee-ooss,  and  roo-mee-nah-tee-o,  and  the 
origin  is  obscured  by  foreign  sounds.  Try  vicinity,  vital, 
citation,  equation,  civil,  and  equity,  from  vicinitas,  vitalis, 
citatio,  aequatio,  civilis,  and  aequitas.  The  English 
mode  reveals  the  truth,  for  "sounds  furnish  the  material 
for  etymology."  Apply  the  so  called  Roman  and  say 
ivec-kee-nee-tahs,  zvee-tah-leess,  kee-ta-tee-oj  aye-kak- 
tee-o,  kee-ivee-leessy  and  aye-kee-tahs,  and  English  ety- 
mology is  offered  a  sacrifice  to  a  revolutionary  innova- 
tion. Again,  look  at  the  common  verbal  stems  jac,  val, 
die,  due,  pel,  and  so  on  through  the  list.  Whenever 
these  stems  occur  in  our  language,  the  English  system 
of  pronouncing  Latin  gives  a  clew  to  both  the  origin 
and  meaning  of  the  words,  as,  for  example,  ejaculatory, 
valid,  diction,  induction,  compel.  It  does  not  require  an 
advanced  scholar  to  verity  and  apply  the  statements  just 
made.  The  most  diligent  scholar  of  any  age  who  has 
not  made  the  trial,  will  be  surprised  to  find  in  how 
many  of  our  words  these  Latin  verbal  stems  form  the 
permanent  home  of  the  idea. 

The  student  of  Latin  can  easily  be  induced  t<>  form 
the  habit,  Jrom  the  very  start,  of  tracing  up  the  deriva- 
tion of  word-,  and  the    habit  thus  formed    may  1h-  of  in- 


LECTURE  OF    PROF.   FISHER.  171 

calculable  benefit  in  other  directions.  On  the  other  hand 
the  Roman  method  confuses  the  studeYit  in  both  deriva- 
tion and  signification,  or  so  entirely  conceals  them,  that 
the  beneficial  results  to  genuine  English  scholarship  are 
almost  totally  sacrificed.  Loyalty  to  what  some  are 
pleased  to  call  the  "demonstrated  rights  of  the  Latin" 
may  be  a  good  thing,  but  loyalty  to  a  masterly  under- 
standing of  our  own  tongue  is  a  far  better.  The  Roman 
mode  abandons  one  of  the  strongest  incentives  that  can 
be  brought  to  bear  in  the  classroom, — that  of  enabling 
the  pupil  to  see  and  hear  at  once  and  easily  the  intimate 
relation  between  the  Latin  and  the  English. 

5.  The  sweeping  change  advocated  by  the  new  pro- 
nunciation tends  to  a  complete  revolution  in  the  pronun- 
ciation of  our  own.  language.  Professor  Thacher,  of 
Yale  College,  uses  the  following  language:  "For,  to 
speak  of  Latin  words  which  we  have  adopted,  how  long 
will  Cicero  maintain  his  place  in  English  pronunciation 
after  the  rod  shall  have  banished  him  from  the  lips  of  all 
Anglo-Saxon  boys  and  girls  who  thumb  the  little  Latin 
histories  of  the  men  of  Rome,  and  shall  have  substituted 
the  classical  kee-ka-ro  in  his  place?  How  long  will 
Caesar  stand  against  Kaisar,  Scipio  against  Skee-peeo, 
Fabricius  against  Fah-bree-kee-oos,  Cyrus  against  Kee- 
roos,  Tacitus  against  Taketoos,  and  so  on  thiough  a 
long  list  of  proper  names  which  make  a  familiar  part  of 
our  English  language.  Prima  facie  evidence  will  be- 
come preemah  fahkeeah  evidence,  the  quid  pro  quo,  keed 
pro  co;  the  genius  loci,  a  ganeeoos  lokee;  the  mens 
conscia,  a  mans  conskeeah  (o  as  in  cone);  scilicet,  skee- 
leekat;  et  cetera,  at  katarah." 

Let  v  be  pronounced  like  w,  and  note  the  way  the 
most  common  expressions  will  be  transformed: 

viva  voce    becomes  wee-wah  wo-kay. 


172  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

per  centum  becomes  par  kanc-toom. 

jure  divino  '  yoo-ray  dee-wec-no. 

jus  civile  "         yoos  kee-wee-lay. 

verbatim  zvayer-bah-teem . 

vivat  regina      "  wee-waht  ray-gee-nak. 

And  hopeless  confusion  is  made  of  the  many  Latin 
words  incorporated  into  English,  as  utile  dulce  must  be 
oo-tee-lav  dool-cay/ 

vale,  w  ah- 1  ay. 

vice  versa,  wee  kay  ivaycr-sah. 

ceteris  paribus,        kay-tay-reess  pahr-ee-boos. 

statu  quo,  stah-too  koe. 

This  illustration  might  be  prolonged  indefinitely, 
for  the  material  is  abundant,  but  there  is  no  necessity  for 
it.  What  has  been  given  is  a  fair  sample  of  the  radical 
change  the  so-called  Roman  must  introduce  to  our  class- 
rooms, and,  in  fact,  in  all  the  walks  of  life  where  Latin 
is  at  all  employed. 


MOSAIC  COSMOGONY. 


By  A.  Meyrowitz,  Professor  of  the  Shemitic 
Languages  and  Literature,  in  the  Univer- 
sity of  the  State  of  Missouri. 

In  entering  upon  the  subject  of  Creation,  we  meet 
three  classes  of  objectors  to  this  doctrine:  i.  The  Athe- 
ists; 2.  The  Antiquarians,  and  3.  The  Infidels.  The 
answer  to  the  first  class  we  give  thus:  That  the  mate- 
rial universe,  of  which  our  globe  forms  a  part,  is  not 
eternal — consequently  the  world  which  we  inhabit  is  not 
eternal.  Or  we  may  argue  thus:  'I  exist,'  this  is  self- 
evident.  T  am  not  the  author  of  my  existence;'  this  is 
also  self-evident.'  I  therefore  must  be  a  created  being. 
That  being  to  whom  I  owe  my  existence  derives  his 
from  himself,  or,  like  me,  owes  it  to  another.  If  he 
exists  himself,  he  must  be  the  eternal  God.  If  not,  I 
argue  about  him  as  about  the  former.  Thus  I  ascend,, 
thus  I  must  ascend,  till  I  arrive  at  that  being  who  does 
exist  of  himself,  and  who  has  always  existed.  Dr. 
Grosvener  says  the  Christian's  creed  is:  "I  believe  in 
God  the  Father  Almighty  maker  of  heaven  and  earth." 
The  Atheist's  creed  is:  'lI  believe  in  nothing  the  origin 
of  all  things/"  Which  do  you  think  is  the  most  philo- 
sophical r 

The  second  class,  the   Antiquarians    say  :     "Remote 


174  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

authentic  antiquity  ascribes  a  vastly  greater  age  to  this 
globe  than  that  set  forth  by  the  inspired  historian  Moses. 
We  answer,  that  the  cosmogony  of  Moses  contemplates 
simply  a  history  of  the  origin  of  the  human  species;  all 
the  other  parts  thereof  being  incidental.  And  I  main- 
tain that  the  first  verse  is  but  an  introductory  passage, 
solving  the  great  problem  of  "whence  the  existence  of 
all  that  which  we  see?" 

(B'reshith.)  In  the  begining  of  time,  when  time 
was  yet  not;  for  things  existing  measure  time.  It  does 
not  limit  to  any  period,  or  calpa,  put  it  at  what  extent 
you  will. 

(Bara) — Created,  brought  into  existence  what  was 
not  before.  Upon  comparison  of  this  Mosaic  record 
with  the  most  ancient  system  of  heathen  philosophy, 
there  can  be  traced  tolerable  marks  of  correspondence. 
Orpheus  says:  "In  the  beginning  the  heavens  were 
made  by  God,  and  in  the  heavens  there  was  a  chaos,  and 
a  terrible  darkness"  was  on  all  the  parts  of  this  chaos, 
and  covered  all  things  under  the  heaven."  Almost  liter- 
ally Biblical.  Anaxagorus  says:  "All  things  were  at 
first  in  one  mass,  but  an  intelligent  agent  came  and  put 
it  in  order."  Aristotle,  though  he  believed  in  a  materia 
principia,  says:  "All  things  lay  in  one  mass  for  a  vast 
space  of  time,  but  an  intelligent  agent  came  and  put 
them  in  motion  and  so  separated  them  from  one  an- 
other." 

(Elohim) — God,  the  creator  being  infinite  can  not 
be  comprehended  by  the  finite.  All  that  man  knows  of 
the  Creator,  is,  that  He  exists.  Therefore  when  Moses 
asked  this  Being  "What  is  His  name?"  (Exodus  iii-13.) 
that  Being  answered:  (Ehejek  asher  ehejeK)  I  shall  be 
who  shall  be  (English  version  I  am  that  I  am)  i.  e.:  All 
that  you  mortal  can  know  of  me  is,  my  existence.     And 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.  MEYROWITZ.  175 

so  the  word  Jehovah  means  Existing,  which  the  Jews 
never  pronounced,  except  the  high  priest  in  temple  on 
the  day  of  Atonement.  God  in  English,  we  know,  is 
formed  from  the  adjective  good.  Elohim  the  plural 
masculine  from  El,  strongs  signifies,  the  concentration 
of  powers;  the  intelligent  forces  to  produce  the  things 
created.  You  will  find  therefore  in  this  first  chapter  of 
creation  only  the  name  Elohim. 

(Hashomayim) — the  heaven,  it  is  a  word,  or  noun, 
in  the  dual  form,  made  of  the  adverb  sham — there,  1.  e, 
space,  sphere,  and  as  the  sphere  is  divided  in  two,  one 
above  the  horizon  and  the  other  below,  the  word  heaven 
or  sphere  is  in  Dual.  Moses  speaks  only  of  the  visible 
atmosphere  as  Aben  Ezra  explains  it. 

(Hoorets) — the  earth,  the  terrestial  globe  in  its  gas- 
eous state.  Maimonicles,  and  other  Jewish  Metaphysi- 
cians understand  the  word  heaven  to  be  form,  and  earth 
materia.  At  any  rate  is  this  heaven  not  to  be  confound- 
ed with  the  heaven  described  in  the  first  chapter  of 
Ezekiel  or  the  heaven  so  often  spoken  of  in  the  New 
Testament,  which  is  the  heaven  of  beatitude. 

(V'hoarets  hoytho  touhu  vobouhu) — And  the  earth 
was  desolate  and  empty.  There  are  acknowledged  be- 
lievers in  Christianity  who  nevertheless  believe  in  a 
materia  frincipia  like  the  learned  Gratius  and  Vatabu- 
lus.  They  understand  the  words  "touhu,  vobouhu"  to 
represent  chaos;  and  read  thus:  "Before  God  created 
the  heavens  and  earth,  everything  was  contained  in  the 
chaos."  Chaos  was  also  not  created.  But  such  a  read- 
ing cannot  possibly  be  correct.  In  th.-*  first  place,  the 
verb  must  stand  in  infinitive  construction,  "B'rou"  in- 
stead of  "Boro"  in  preterit.  Secondly  the  words  "touhu 
vobouhu"  are  adjectives,  asratos,  inanis  et  waena,  with- 
out form  and  void. 


176  UNIVERSITY    OF    .MISSOURI. 

(Vchoushech  al  p'nai  th'houm)  — -  And  darkness 
upon  the  depth.  In  Deuteronomy  v-4,  we  read,  ''mi- 
touch  hoaish,"  out  of  the  midst  of  the  fire,  and  in  verse 
20  in  loco,  we  read  "untouch  hachoushech,"  out  of  the 
midst  of  the  darkness,  which  means  the  same.  Hence  I 
understand  that  the  word  darkness  here  also  means  fire, 
and  the  idea  is,  that  after  the  creation  of  the  gaseous 
globe  the  element  of  fire  was  surrounding  it. 

(Vrooach  Elohim  m'rachefeth  al  p'nai  hammoyim) 
— And  the  wind  of  Elohim  was  (brooding)  hovering 
upon  the  face  (if  the  waters.  I  am  well  aware  that 
Christology  understands  the  word  "V'raach,"  and  the 
►Spirit,  the  third  person  in  the  holy  Trinity.  There  is 
even  a  most  remarkable  saying  in  Jewish  literature: 
"The  spirit  of  God,  that  is,  the  spirit  of  Christ  (Me- 
shiaeh)."  But  I  am  giving  you  a  simple  textual  lecture. 
The  word  "m'rachefeth,"  translated  moving,  is  beauti- 
fuily  adapted  here  for  the  idea  of  activity  in  creation. 
It  is  used  to  express  the  hovering  of  a  bird  over  its  nest 
in  brooding  its  eggs.  The  Cabalah  says :  -'The  spirit 
hovered  like  a  dove,  touching  and  not  touching."  The 
simple  meaning  in  the  text  is,  the  cooling  off  of  the 
globe  after  its  creation.  The  first  verse  of  Genesis 
speaks  of  the  creation  of  (he  substance,  or  prima  mate- 
ria of  the  heavens  and  earth.  The  second  of  the  vital 
energies  of  a  supernatural  agency,  in  preparing  the  pri- 
mordial elements  for  subsequent  organization.  And  the 
third  and  following  verses  to  the  end  of  the  chapter  of 
arranging  those  elements  in  their  proper  form. 

(3  verse.  Vayoumer  Eloumin  y'hi  our)— And  Elou- 
him  said:  "Let  there  he  light.1''  The  word  "amar" 
means  also  he  thought,  he  wished,  as  in  Ecclesiastes  ii-i. 
"1  said  in  my  heart."  Elohim  wished,  and  it  was.  ( )r, 
light:  it  seems  most  rational,  by  this  light  to   understand 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.  MJiYKO WITZ.  177 

those  particles  of  matter"  which  Aye   call   fire,  "which  the 

Almighty  .Spirit"  that  formed  all  things,  produced  as  the 
great  instrument  for  the  preparation  and  digestion  of  the 
rest    of  the    matter:    which   was   still    more   vigorously 
moved  and  agitated,  from  the  top  to  the  bottom,  by  ! 
restless  element,  till  the  purer  and  more  shining  par1 
it,  being  separated  from  the  grosser  and  united  in  a  body 
fit    to    retain    them,  became   light.     The   Talmud  says: 
"By  the  light  which   God  created   on   the  first  day,  men 
could  see  from  one  end  of  the   world   to   the  other  end 
It    means   to  sav.    that    this   light   was  diffused    over  the 
whole  globe,  not  being   concentrated.      This    light    is   to 
be   carefully   distinguished   from  that  of  the    fourth  day, 
when  it  was  concentrated  in  the  receptacles  of  light,  i.  e. 
the  sun. 

(4  verse.,)  This  celestial  fluid  in  a  stat<  I  '-'ity, 
is  called  "or,"  light,  and  the  same  in  an  inactive  state  s 
called  "choushech."  darkness.  A-  the  darkness,  or 
is  the  negative  of  activity,  or  light  light,  the  text  men- 
tions first  evening  and  then  morning.  Mephistophiles, 
in  Faust  by  Goethe,  says :  '-The  light  which  darkness 
bare." 

(5  verse.)  Yuum  echod — -one  day.  The  question 
whether  it  means  a  natural  or  solar  day  of  twenty-four 
hours,  or  a  period  of  vastly  greater  length  is  difficult  to 
decide.  If  we  reason  that  nature  and  Providence  are 
gradual  in  their  operations;  not  like  man,  who  is  always 
for  subitaneous  violence,  but  deliberately  proceeding  by 
gradual  evolutions,  the  six  days  must  mean  periods  of 
stupendous  length.  But  when  wc  suppose  that  creation 
involves  the  intervention  of  a  miracle  in  giving  existence 
to  the  material  universe;  and  il  by  the  intervention  of  a 
miracle,  then  why  extend  it  continuously  through 
periods,  of  stupendous  length?     We   come   now  to  the 


178  tTMYEK61TY    OF    MISSOURI. 

work  oi  the  second  clay,  the  separation  of  air  and  water. 
The  word  "rokia"  signifies  expansion,  a  gaseous  fluid, 
and  not  firmament,  as  the  English  version,  which  is 
taken  from  the  Septuagint.  This  constituted  the  next 
step  of  advance  in  the  organization  of  the  chaotic 
aqueous  matter.  For  till  there  was  an  expanse,  or  at- 
mosphere, the  particles  of  water  thrown  off  by  the  con- 
tinued action  of  fire  on  the  primeval  elements,  could  not 
ascend.  This  expanse  provided,  the  process  of  evapo- 
ration could  go  on,  the  smaller  particles  being  raised 
above  by  exhalation,  and  the  larger  body  of  water  re- 
maining below.  Thus  the  atmosphere,  and  which  is 
the  same  material  heaven,  through  which  the  birds  of 
the  air  wing  their  devious  course,  "divided  the  waters 
which  were  above  them  from  the  waters  which  were 
below  them."  Water,  "mayim,"  has  for  this  reason  the 
Dual  form. 

On  the  third  day,  sea  and  land  were  disunited,  and 
the  earth  was  made  to  produce  vegetation.  Each  suc- 
cessive process  in  the  conformation  of  the  primeval 
aqueous  matter  to  the  purpose  designed,  should  be 
sedulously  kept  in  view.  The  chaotic  element  had 
by  the  organization  of  the  first  two  days,  produced  suc- 
cessively and  in  the  following  order,  darkness,  light,  the 
atmosphere  and  a  division  of  the  exhalated  particles  of 
water,  from  the  denser  fluid.  This  fluid,  however,  was 
subject  to  another  process,  that  of  bringing  together  its 
granitic  and  earthly  elements;  the  former  consisting  of 
the  primitive  rock,  or  skeleton  of  our  globe,  the  hitter, 
the  soil  with  which  they  were  covered,  as  indispensable 
to  the  purposes  of  vegetation.  Hence  the  division  of 
earth  and  water,  or  land  and  sea,  and   the  production  of 

-..  herbs  ant!  trees. 

On  the  fourth  day  a   more  perfect  division«of  dark- 


LECTURE  OF   PROF.    MKYKOWITZ.  179 

Hess  and  light  into  day  and  night  was  produced,  by 
placing  in  the  material  heavens,  the  sun,  the  moon  and 
the  stars.  Thenceforward,  the  diurnal  revolutions  of 
the  sun  and  moon,  established  the  divisions  of  time  into 
days,  months  and  years,  and  the  seasons  into  those  of 
of  summer  and  winter.  These  luminaries  are  called 
"m'ourouth,"  light-bearers,  receptacles  of  "or,"  light 
created  at  first. 

On  the  fifth  day,  was  the  formation  of  fishes,  and  of 
birds.  By  the  formation  of  the  sea-monsters,  in  reason 
of  their  enormousness,  the  word  "BorOj"  to  create,  is 
employed  by  the  writer. 

The  work  of  the  sixth  day  was  appropriated  to  the 
formation  of  the  various  species  and  genus  of  beasts  and 
reptiles,  and  finally  of  man.  Here  again  the  verb 
"Bora,"  to  create,  is  used,  referring  to  the  soul.  Ills 
body  was  made  out  of  the  dust  of  the  earth,  but  his  soul 
was  a  new  creature,  a  portion  of  God  from  above. 

(26  verse.)  (Naasseh  Odom) — Let  us  make  man. 
This  plural  form  of  the  verb  has  given  rise  to  manv 
speculative  exegesis,  but  without  entering  into  the 
merit  or  demerit  of  these  various  speculations;  I  believe 
that  the  Deity  addressed  here  his  material  creation  and 
said:  Let  us,  Me  and  the  earth,  form  man.  Thou 
earth  give  the  matter,  anil  I  will  create  the  mind,  and 
both  combined  will  make  man.  lie  will  then  he  in  both 
our  h«age,  and  like  unto  both  of  us.  The  carnal  body 
Will  bind  him  to  earth,  and  his  soul  will  make  him  God- 
like. And  this  God-like  nature  will  make  him  lord  of 
all  lower  creation,  but  not  lord  over  their  life;  animal. 
fi  01    vvas  not  allowed  him. 

(;;!.  verse.)  (Vayaar  Elohim) — And  (Jod  saw, 
1  leans,  and  God  approved,  a-,  "I  see  he  is  right.'''  (Toub 
m'oud) — ver<  :  in  Hebrew  i-  "m'oud,"  the  superla- 


180  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

tivc  the  best.  The  world  created  was  the  best  that  God 
could  have  created.  The  Bible  teaches  the  doctrine  of 
"Optemismus,"  fallen  men  are  the  pessimists. 

(II  2  verse.)  (Vaychal  Elohim) — And  God  finish- 
ed. The  finishing  on  the  seventh  day  has  caused  the 
Septnagint,  and  other  manuscripts  to  write  "And  God 
finished  on  the  sixth  day.  But  the  word  "Vaychal"  can 
also  have  the  meaning  and  "he  liked"  (See  Psalm  84-2). 
The  reading  would  be  thus:  "And  God  liked  on  the 
seventh  day.     His  work  which  he  made.'1 

When  the  order  of  the  Mosaic  Cosmogony  will  be 
compared  with  the  geological  strata  of  the  globe  (as 
the  lecturer  compared  it  at  the  end  of  his  lecture  with 
a  geological  Chart  which  he  exhibited  to  his  honorable 
audience)  it  will  be  found,  that  the  order  described  by 
Moses  1650  B.  C.  (3500)  agrees  most  accurately  with  it. 
And  is  not  this  one  of  the  grandest  proof,  that  this  book 
called  the  Bible  is  of  none  else  but  Him  who  declares  at 
the  beginning  what  will  happen  at  the  end  of  time,  the 
only  true  wise  God  to  whom  be  all  glory  and  majesty. 
Amen. 


THE  FALL   OF    THE    DECEMVIR  ATE— THE 
LEGEND  OF  VIRGINIA. 


By  Philemon  Bli^s,  LL.  D.,  Professor  of  Law 
and  Dean  of  the  Law  Faculty  in  the  Uni- 
versity of   the  State  of  Missouri. 

Before  coming  to  the  story  which  I  propose  to  re- 
cite to  you  upon  this  occasion,  and  that  you  may  under- 
stand its  legal  and  historical  bearing,  I  must  call  your 
attention  to  a  few  preliminary  matters  which  are  consid- 
ered more  in  detail  in  the  class  room,  when  treating  of 
the  constitutional  and  legal  history  of  early  Rome,  but 
which  I  can  but  merely  allude  to  to-night.  According 
to  the  Roman  Annals,  the  Tarquins  were  expelled  two 
hundred  and  forty  years  after  the  foundation  of  the  city, 
and  five  hundred  and  eight  before  the  Christian  Era. 
This  was  twenty"  years  before  the  battle  of  Marathon 
and  some  fifty  years  after  the  beginning  of  the  restora- 
tion of  the  Jews  and  the  rebuilding  of  the  Temple. 
Before  that  event,  in  league  with  the  Cognate  Herni- 
cians  and  with  the  thirty  cities  of  Latium,  and  as  the 
head  of  the  Confederacy,  Rome  had  acquired  a  promi- 
nent position  among  the  powers  situate  upon  the  Medi- 
terranean. A  portion  of  a  commercial  treaty  with  Car- 
thage has  been  preserved  which  indicates  the  importance 
of  its  foreign  relations,  and  the  great   works  built  by  the 


IS'd  UNIVERSITY   OF    MISSOURI. 

later  kings,  show  its  internal  strength.  'The  wall  of 
Servius  Tullius  was  looked  upon  as  a  marvellous  work 
in  the.  clays  of  Pliny  and  the  Cloaca  Maxima  is  one  of 
those  Cyclopean  structures  which  were  built  as  if  for 
eternity.  Its  triple  walls,  each  of  huge  blocks  of  uni- 
form size,  in  all  some  eleven  feet  in  thickness,  are  as  solid 
as  when  built,  its  area  is  greater  than  that  of  any  similar 
work  in  Europe  and  is  only  inferior  to  the  great  Mill 
creek  sewer  of  St.  Louis. 

These  kings,  except  perhaps  the  last,  were  the  pro- 
tectors of  the  commons.  The  Patricians  were  exorbi- 
tant usurers,  denied  the  Plebians  any  interest  in  the  pub- 
lic lands,  and  habitually  availed  themselves  of  the  right 
to  sell  their  insolvent  debtors  into  slavery.  The  kings 
desired  to  save  their  peasant  soldiers  and  sought  to  pro- 
tect them  from  tailing  into  the  hands  of  their  remorse- 
less creditors.  This  was  chieflv  done  by  usury  laws 
limiting  interest  to  ten  per  cent,  and  by  giving  to  each 
Plebian  a  homestead,  thus  creating  a  self-dependent,  free 
and  hardy  peasantry,  interested  in  defending  their  own 
homes  as  well  as  the  great  possessions  of  the  lordly 
patricians.  The  later  kings,  at  least  Servius  Tullius, 
also  sought  to  give  them  some  voice  in  the  state 
through  the  complicated  organization  of  the  centuries  of 
which  I  have  now  no  time  to  speak. 

But  Patrician  avarice  and  ambition.  Patrician  pride 
and  arrogance  could  not  endure  the  idea  that  the  de- 
scendents  of  emancipated  clients,  of  slaves,  of  strangers 
who  had  voluntarily  domiciled  in,  or  who  had  been 
transported  to  the  city  as  captives,  should  be  exempted 
from  any  burden,  should  enjoy  any  political  rights,  or 
receive  any  portion  of  conquered  lands.  They  might 
fight — indeed  there  could  hardly  have  been  an  army 
without  them — but  every  victorv  must  be  for  the  exclu- 


LECTUKK  OF   I'ROF.   BUSS.  188 

sive  benefit  of  the  privileged  order;  and  for  reversing 
this  policy,  for  seeking  to  give  some  four  or  five  acres  to 
each  peasant-soldier,  for  desiring  to  clothe  the  centuries 
composed  of  the  more  prosperous  plebians,  as  well  as 
patricians,  with  some  civil  power,  Tarqnin  the  first 
and  Servius  were  assassinated,  and  for  laying  his  heavy 
hand  upon  patrician  as  well  as  plebian,  the  last  Tarquin 
was  driven  from  the  throne,  and  a  republic,  so  called, 
was  established. 

Upon  the  expulsion  of  the  kings,  the  gentile  class 
determined  to  establish  a  pure  and  narrow  aristocracy. 
At  first,  a  somewhat  liberal  constitution  was  adopted, 
but  as  soon  as  the  fear  of  Tarqnin  had  passed  away,  it 
was  trampled  under  foot  and  the  struggle  continued  for 
nearly  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  before  there  was  any- 
thing like  political  equality  between  the  orders.  This 
was  a  sorry  period  in  the  history  of  the  imperial  city,  and 
tor  a  portion  of  the  time  its  habit,  if  not  its  dream  of  con- 
quest was  abandoned  and  it  became  content  to  struggle 
for  a  very  existence.  The  acquisitions  of  the  Tarquins 
and  ot  Servius  were  soon  lost,  the  alliance  with  the 
Latins  and  Hernicians  came  to  an  end,  the  citizens  who 
had  been  planted  in  Etruria  were  driven  back  across  the 
Tiber,  the  northern  boundary  of  the  ager  Romanus 
came  down  almost  to  the  Anio,  and  on  two  memorable 
occasions  the  city  it:>elf  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 
It  was  first  conquered  by  Porsena  and  compelled  to  pay 
tribute  to  the  Etruscans,  and  after  the  days  of  the  De- 
cemvirate,  of  which  l  am  about  to  speak,  barbarous 
hordes  of  Gauls  then  occupying  the  banks  of  the  Po, 
poured  over  the  Apennines  down  through  Etruria,  scat- 
tered the  Roman  army  sent  out  to  meet  them,  and  took 
possession  of  and  burned  the  city — the  Capitoline  hill 
with  its  priceless  historical  and  legal  treasures  alone 
being:  saved. 


184  ITN-J.VRESITY    OK    MISSOURI. 

During  this  long  era  of  depression  five  or  six  gene- 
rations passed  away,  the  citv  was  constantly  engaged  in 
external  wars  with  the  small  powers  that  surrounded  it, 
but  the  great  war  was  within  its  walls'.  No  danger,  no 
patriotic  impulse,  no  law  or  compact,  conceded  as  they 
often  were  by  the  patricians  when  driven  to  the  wall, 
could  divert  them  from  their  determination  to  establish 
and  maintain  their  aristocratic  constitution.  The  fathers, 
the  patristic  class,  alone  in  their  view  composed  the 
state,  and  they  assumed  that  the  great  majority  of  the 
free  inhabitants,  although  native  citizens  and  soldiers, 
were  bul  strangers  having  no  rights,  but  bound  to 
work  and  to  fight  for  the  orthodox  ord.-T.  They  were 
forbidden  to  intermarry  with  this  order,  were  rigorously 
excluded  from  every  office  involving  the  administration  of 
law,  were  shut  out  from  lands  won  by  their  valor,  were 
often  involved  in  hopeless  debts  by  the  usury  wrung 
from  their  necessities  and,  with  their  families,  were  sold 
into  slavery  to  satisfy  them.  Religion  came  to  the  aid 
of  selfishness.  The  gods  of  the  city,  as  well  as  those  of 
the  gentes  and  curies,  were  patrician  gods.  The  fath- 
thers,  the  patristic  class  were  alone  under  the  divine 
care,  they  alone  could  offer  sacrifices,  they  were  a  sacer- 
dotal as  well  as  an  aristocratic  order.  Without  an  ortho- 
dox worship,  the  commons  were  simply  impious  for  as- 
piring to  equality  with  the  sacred  caste. 

As  the  fruit  of  the  long  struggle  with  pride  and 
superstition,  the  plebians  had  wrung  many  concessions 
and  would  perhaps  have  been  contented  had  their  rights, 
tinder  these  concessions,  been  respected.  Their  legal  dis- 
abilities were  still  bad  enough,  but,  as  is  always  the  case 
with  classes  who  cannot  protect  themselves,  their  suffer- 
ings from  unlawful  outrages,  from  the  oppression  of 
magistrates,  and  the  perversions  of  law  were  far  more 


LECTURE    OF   PROF.     BLISS.  185 

severe.  The  constitution  of  the  good  king  Servius 
had  lived  in  their  hearts  and  hopes  and  they  had  not 
ceased  to  struggle,  and  with  some  success,  for  the  relief 
which  he  had  sought  to  give  them.  Before  the  days  of 
the  Decemvirs  they  had  acquired  small  homesteads, 
their  place  in  the  centuries,  with  the  increasing  politi- 
cal power  of  that  organization,  had  become  undisputed, 
and  the  assembly  of  the  trihes,  composed  at  this  time  ex- 
clusively of  plebians,  had  become  a  legal  body  with  im- 
portant political  powers.  This  body  could  initiate  laws, 
but  the  patrician  Curies  and  Senate  always  ignored 
every  unpalatable  proposition,  and  patrician  mobs  were 
wont  to  interrupt  or  break  up  their  assemblies.  They 
were  practically  without  protection  even  in  the  few  legal 
rights  which  were  conceded  to  them,  for  they  were 
without  magistrates  who  possessed  any  power  outside 
their  own  order.  In  view  of  this  want,  the  commons, 
by  the  first  secession  to  JMons  Sacer  had  obtained  the 
celebrated  Tribunate,  an  office  which  would  be  the 
source  of  endless  confusion,  if  not  anarchy,  in  a  govern- 
ment of  equal  laws,  but  which,  in  the  antagonist  popu- 
lations of  Rome,  became  their  only  efficient  protection. 
I  have  no  time  even  to  allude  to  the  many  and  long 
struggles  which  resulted  in  the  emancipation  of  the 
plebians,  in  the  opening  of  that  career  of  conquest,  and 
in  the  successful  establishment  of  little  Romes,  through- 
out the  conquered  territories,  that  have  made  Rome, 
though  so  long  dead,  still  the  active,  the  moving  power 
among  men.  But  my  subject  to-night,  'The  fall  of  the 
Decemvirate,'  demands  that  I  briefly  speak  of  the  crea- 
tion of  that  celebrated  magistracy,  chosen,  like  the 
Archonship  of  Solon,  to  reform  the  laws  and  which  re- 
sulted in  the  adoption  of  the  XII  Tables,  a  code  of  com- 
manding importance  in  its  bearing  upon  the  jurispru- 
dence of  the  world. 


186  UNIVERSITY   OP    MISSOURI. 

I  have  alluded  to  the  fact  that  the  law  was  adminis- 
tered exclusively  by  the  patricians  and  have  also  alluded 
to  their  rapacity  and  disposition  to  grind  the  face  of  the 
commons.  At  this  period,  except  occasional  enactments 
for  special  objects,  there  were  in  Rome  no  written  laws; 
and  it  is  not  likely  that  written  codes  were  known  in 
any  of  the  neighboring  states.  Controversies  were  de- 
termined in  accordance  with  certain  generally  received 
rules  or  customs,  recognized  but  not  ordained,  customs 
which  had  existed  more  or  less  settled  and  developed, 
for  hundreds,  perhaps  thousands  of  years,  before  the 
foundation  of  the  city.  Those  which  at  this  and  subse- 
quent periods  were  common  to  the  Italian  cities  with 
Which  the  Romans  held  intercourse  came  to  be  called 
the  jus  gentium  or  jus  naturae,  while  the  jus  civile 
pertained  to  Rome  alone.  The  complaint  of  the  ple- 
bians  in  regard  to  legal  administratio-i  was  two-fold. 
First  the  law  was  uncertain  and  was  often  perverted  in 
the  interest  of  the  ruling  class.  They  demanded  a 
written  code  so  published  as  to  be  known  to  all  and  with 
severe  penalties  upon  any  recreant  magistrate  who  should 
disregard  it.  What  some  of  those  penalties  were,  we 
shall  presently  see.  Thev  also  desired  a  system  of  laws 
that  should  apply  equally  to  all  classes  of  citizens: 
hitherto  there  had  been  one  law  for  the  patrician  and 
one  for  the  plebian.  They  demanded  also  an  equal  par- 
ticipation in  the  magistracy.  It  had  become  very  appa- 
rent that  so  long  as  all  the  great  offices  were  held  by 
their  enemies,  so  long  as,  when  appealed  to  for  redress  of 
injuries,  they  could  make  the  law  whatever  they  saw  fit 
to  call  it,  so  long  as,  even  in  theory,  the  two  classes  were 
not  equal  before  the  law,  it  would  be  in  vain  to  strive  for 
other  reforms.  Dispairing  therefore  of  justice  without 
a  revolution  in  the  judicial  system,  they  dropped  all  oth- 


LECTURE   OF   PROF.  BIjISS.  187 

er' demands,  and  in  the  year  293  from  the  foundation  of 
the  city  and  forty-eight  years  after  the  expulsion  of  Tar- 
quin,  the  Tribune  Terentelius  brought  before  the  assem- 
bly of  the  Tribes  a  lex,  an  act  we  should  call  it,  for  the 
election  of  ten  magistrates  to  be  taken  equally  from  both 
classes,  to  supercede  the  Consuls,  the  Tribunes,  the 
Quaestors,  the  Edilc<,  and  whose  first  duty  should  be  to 
codify  and  publish  the  laws  and  provide  for  the  political 
amalgamation  of  the  orders.  This  proposition  aroused 
every  passion  of  the  aristocrats.  It  would  be  interesting 
and  instructive,  a1-  showing  that  human  nature  is  the 
same  in  all  ages,  that  political  ascendency  and  class  priv- 
ilege are  never  surrendcaed  without  a  struggle,  to  note 
Sn  some  detail  the  fierce  and  bloody  strifes  over  the 
Tercntilian  law  during  the  next  decade.  But  I  have  no 
time  to-night.  Suffice  it  upon  this  occasion  to  say  that 
after  a  struggle  of  nine  years,  after  every  device  lawful 
and  lawless  had  been  interposed  in  opposition,  the  pa- 
tience and  perseverence  of  the  commons  was  rewarded 
with  success.  The  Senate  and  the  assembly  of  the 
Curies  so  far  yielded  as  to  authorize  the  election  of  the 
Decemvirs  to  supercede  all  other  magistrates,  and  direct- 
ed that  they  should  codify  and  publish  the  laws. 

The  work  of  the  first  Decemvirs  was  highlv  satis- 
factory. In  framing  the  code,  they  took  to  their  aid  the 
Greek  philosopher  Hennodorus,  made  him  their  secre- 
tary as  we  would  call  it,  drew  up  the  first  ten  Tables, 
and  caused  them  to  be  engraved  upon  brass  and  exposed 
in  the  Comitium  for  public  inspection.  These  laws 
were  well  received  and  no  complaint  was  made  of  the 
civil  administration. 

One  of  the  ablest  of  the  Decemvirs  was  Appius 
Claudius.  Aristocrat  by  birth  and  instinct,  he  thirsted 
for  power  and  had  labored  to  make  himself  popular  by 


188  UNXVJ3B8ITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

seeming   to  be    the  chief  instrument   in    gratifying  the 

commons  through  the  adoption  ot  an  excellent  code. 
He  belonged  to  the  celebrated  Sabine  Claudian  family, 
which,  a  generation  before,  had  been  adopted  by  the 
Curies  and  incorporated  into  the  Roman  aristocracy. 
Almost  every  generation  of  this  family,  from  its  first  en- 
trance into  the  city  until  the  imperial  Claudius,  had  fur- 
nished men  of  marked  ability.  They  were  never  sol- 
diers, were  rather  distinguished  as  orators  and  adroit  po- 
litical managers,  were  always  remorseless  patricians 
without  a  spark  of  sympathy  with  the  commons,  though 
upon  occasion  they  made  very  successful  demagogues. 
It  takes  a  heartless  aristocrat  to  make  a  genuine  dema- 
gogue, and  nothing  so  pleases  him  as,  while  subjecting 
the  people  to  his  will,  to  degrade  them  by  flattering  their 
vices  and  by  exciting  their  jealousies  against  those  who 
would  elevate  and  ennoble  them. 

At  the  end  of  the  year  the  work  of  the  Decemvirs 
was  not  completed  and  another  election  became  neces- 
sary. Niebuhr  thinks  the)'  were  to  be  a  permanent  mag- 
istracy and  that  the  new  election  was  in  regular  order, 
while  others  suppose  that  they  were  chosen  for  a  special 
purpose,  and  that  this  election  was  only  to  complete  their 
work.  But  we  know  that  a  new  election  was  had,  and 
Appius  Claudius  was  the  only  one  of  the  old  body  who 
was  re-elected.  Finding  himself  secure  in  his  position, 
that  his  new  colleagues  could  be  controlled  by  him,  and 
hoping  for  nothing  more  from  the  plebs,  the  dema- 
gogue threw  off  the  mask,  made  his  peace  with  his  own 
order,  and  managed  to  render  this  administration  the 
most  infamous  known  in  the  Annals.  Two  Tables  were 
added  to  the  code  containing,  as  Cicero  says,  some  une- 
qual laws,  among  which  was  the  provision  that  if  a  pa- 
trician should   wed   the  daughter  of  a   plebian,  the  fruit 


LECTURE    OF    PROP-    BLIvS  189 

of  the  marriage  should  belong     i  ow-er  order.     For 

this  the  common*  cared  but  little,  it  served  only  to 
strengthen  their  own  class,  but  they  caved  much  for  the 
oppressive  orders  and  unjust  judgments  to  which  the 
new  Decemvirs  subjected  them.  For  some  forty  years 
they  had  enjoyed  the  protection  of  their  own-  Tribunes, 
— the  arm  of  the  Consul  was  often  parali'zed  by  his  veto 
and  they  had  succeeded  in  banishing  some  of  the  most 
illustrious  patricians — but  now  the  office  is  superceded 
and  there  i>  no  one  clothed  with  legal  authority  to  shield 
them  from  outrage.  The  patricians  could  not  look  upon 
the  Decemvirs  with  favor,  for  they  had  been  forced 
upon  them  by  the  plebians,  but  still  thev  delighted  to 
see  this  fruit  of  the  popular  victory  brought  home  to  the 
commons,  and  stood  aloof,  or  encouraged  the  tyrants. 
The  year  run  out  and  no  new  election  was  called:  it 
seemed  that  the  Council  of  Ten  had  determined  to  fol- 
low the  example  of  the  tyrants  bf  the  Grecian  cities  and 
hold  on  to  their  power.  How  long  this  state  of  things 
would  have  continued  but  for  an  attempted  outrage  by 
Appius  cannot  be  known,  but.  as  the  immediate  cause  of 
their  overthrow,  the  Roman  Annals,  or  perhaps  the 
Roman  Legends,  have  left  us  the  exciting  story  of  Vir- 
ginia. In  giving  you  this  story  to-night,  I  hope  it  will 
not  be  considered  any  the  less  truthful  if  I  do  not  tread 
in  all  the  steps  of  Livy;  at  least  I  will  not,  like  him 
and  Macaulay,  put  long  speeches  into  the  mouths  of  the 
excited  actors,  when  their  words  must  have  been  short 
and  sharp. 

I  must  detain  you  from  the  story  a  little  longer,  for 
it  cannot  be  well  understood  without  some  idea  of  a 
Roman  court  of  justice.  At  this  period  the  famous 
basilicas  had  not  been  built  and  all  suits  were  instituted, 
the  nature  of  the  controversy  was  ascertained,  and  usu- 


190  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

ally  the  final  trials  we're   had  in  the  Forum,  in  the  open 
air.     This  celebrated  place,  on   which   for  mure  than  a 
thousand  years  were  acted  scenes   of  greater   public  sig- 
nificance   than   in    any    other   spot   on    earth,  was  but  an 
oblong  public  space  in   the  heart  of  Rome  of  about  four 
acres  of  land,  extending  south  from  the  base  of  the  Cap- 
itoline   hill  with  diminishing   width    to  near  the   eastern 
slope  of  the  Palatine.     The  .Senate  Chamber  overlooked 
it  from  the  Capitoline  and  the  assembly  of  the  centuries 
— the  exercitus — was    held  in  the  Campus  Martius  out- 
side and  north  of  the  'walls — the  army,  as  such,  not  being 
suffered  in  the  city.     The  importance  of  this  little  area 
will   appear   when    we  consider  that,  except   the  Senate 
and  the  centuries,  no  legal  public  assembly,  whether  of 
the  curies    or  the  tribes,  no  elections,  no   legislation  by 
the  commons  or  by  the  patrician    body,  ami  no  courts  of 
justice  could  be  lawfully  held  except  in   the   Forum  Ro- 
manum.     The  judicial  power  in  early  Rome  was  vested 
first  in  the  Kings,  afterwards  in   the  Consuls,  and  at  the 
time  of  which  I   am  speaking,  in  the   Decemvirs.     The 
plaintiff,  in  bringing  his  action,  did    not,  as  with    us,  sue 
out  a  summons,  or  a  capias,  to  be  served  upon  his  adver- 
sary by  a  public  officer,  but  himself  seized  and  brought 
him  before  the   magistrate.     The  defendant  was  bound 
to  yield,  for  the  plaintiff  was  as  the  sheriff  in    the  case 
and   could   enforce   obedience.     The   Consul,    or    at    the 
time   of  which    1    am    speaking,  one   of  the    Decern virs, 
and  in  after  centuries  the  Praetor  sat  in  the  open  Forum 
to  hear  complaints,  and    when    the   parties   came   before 
him,  an  early  day  was  fixed  to  make  up  the  issues  as  the 
lawyers  call  it,  that  is,  to  ascertain  the  real  nature  of  the 
complaint  and  defense.     At   this  second   appearance  the 
character  of  the   controversy    was   ascertained,  and   the 
whole  matter  a    -    "i  ferred  to  a  judex-,  who  was  instruct- 


LECTL'RR    OF    PBOP.     ELISS.  191 

cd  to  hear  the  evidence,  to  decide  upon  the  facts  and  to 
render  judgment  in  accordance  with  the  directions  of 
the  magistrate  upon  the  question  of  law  involved. 
Long  after  the  age  of  the  Decemvirs  the  formulary  sys- 
tem, so  celebrated  in  Roman  jurisprudence,  was  adopted 
by  the  Proetors,  by  which  all  issues  were  made  up  in 
writing  according  to  exact  formulas  and  the  directions  of 
the  Proctor  were  also  in  writing;  but  at  this  period  the 
allegations  of  the  parties  were  verbal  and  the  instruc- 
tions to  the  judex  were  also  delivered  to  him  verbally 
by  an  officer  sent  with  the  parties  for  that  purpose.  Had 
I  time  to-night  it  would  be  interesting  to  go  more  into 
detail  in  regard  to  these  trials,  but  from  what  has  been 
said  you  will  perceive  that  in  them  was  embodied  the 
fundamental  idea  of  our  own  jury  system,  the  determi- 
nation of  the  questions  of  law  and  of  what  should  he 
the  issues  between  the  parties  being  made  by  the  magis- 
trate with  a  submission  of  the  facts  to  a  lay  citizen.  At 
the  time  of  which  I  am  speaking  no  one  but  a  Senator 
could  be  a  judex,  and  though  the  class  from  which  he 
might  be  chosen  was  afterwards  extended,  yet  it  was 
always  confined  to  the  highest  rank  of  citizens.  The 
judicial  function,  whether  exercised  by  the  Proetor  or 
|  tdex,  was  with  the  Romans  as  it  is  with  us,  the  highest 
in  internal  administration,  with  this  difference,  that  with 
them  such  service  was  gratuitous  and  no  one  could  be 
entrusted  with  questions  affecting  life,  liberty  or  prop- 
erty, unless  he  had  a  large  pecuniary  interest  in  the 
state. 

THE    LEGEND. 

An  unsuccessful  war  was  being  waged  against  the 
Equians  and  Sanities,  two  legions  were  in  the  field  un- 
der eight  of  the  Decemvirs,  leaving  in  the  city  as  the 
sole  magistrates,  the  tyrant  Appius  Claudius  and  his  col- 


192  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

league  Oppius.  Lucius  Virginius,  be!  mging  to  the 
better  class  of  tbe  plebians,  a  centurion  and  abroad  with 
his  legion,  left  at  home  a  beautiful  daughter  who  had 
been  betrothed  to  Icilius,  a  distinguished  leader  of  the 
commons.  As,  with  her  maid,  she  daily  came  to  hear 
school  adjoining  the  Forum,  Appius  fastened  his  eyes 
upon  her.  His  allurements  were  disregarded.  Piqued 
and  inflamed  by  the  obstacles  in  his  way,  and  not  doubt- 
ing his  own  omnipotence  in  the  city,  he  determined  to 
secure  her  person  through  the  fraudulent  exercise  of  his 
legitimate  power  as  magistrate.  To  this  end  he  sub- 
orned one  of  the  clients  of  his  hou-e  to  demand  the 
fair  Virginia  as  a  child  of  one  of  his  female  slaves,  to 
claim  that  she  had  been  adopted  by  the  childless  wife  of 
Virginius  and  imposed  upon  him  as  her  own.  A.  client 
in  Rome  was  something  higher  than  a  slave  and  some- 
thing less  than  a  freeman.  He  could  hold  property,  but 
owed  more  than  feudal  service  to  his  patron,  and  could 
never  act  in  any  public  matter  against  his  will.  One 
day,  on  the  way  to  her  school,  the  lass  was  .seized  by 
this  client,  her  pretended  owner,  but  the  crowd,  which 
was  drawn  together  by  the  outcries  of  her  maid,  on  see- 
ing her  beauty  and  learning  the  names  of  her  father  and 
affianced  husband,  promptly  interfered  and  rendered 
forcible  abduction  impossible.  They  were  somewhat 
appeased  by  the  apparent  fairness  of  the  tool  of  the  De- 
cemvir, who  disclaimed  violence,  and  was  only  about  to 
institute  his  claim  to  the  girl  in  a  strictly  legal  manner. 
Accordingly  he  was  suffered  to  bring  her  before  the 
magistrate,  then  in  his  judgment  seat  surrounded  by  his 
lictors,  before  whom  he  made  his  formal  demand.  Such 
was  Roman  slavery,  that,  had  his  statement  been  true, 
or  had  a  judex,  perhaps  corruptly,  found  it  to  be  true, 
no  limitation  of  time  which  bars   all  other  demands,  no 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.  BLISS.  193 

refinement  of  manners  which  elevates  their  possessor 
above  servile  employments,  no  affection  of  family  or 
friends  who  would  retain  her  in  the  sphere  in  which 
she  had  been  reared,  no  offer  to  the  claimant  of  pecuni- 
ar)'' compensation,  which  heals  all  wrongs  and  satisfies 
all  other  claims,  could  have  availed  the  poor  girl.  As 
the  property  of  the  demandant,  she  was  absolutely  and 
forever  subject  to  his  will.  But  there  was  also  a  law  in 
Rome  that  made  the  condition  of  servitude  an  affirma- 
tive fact  to  be  established,  and  it  was  expressly  re-enact- 
ed in  the  Twelve  Tables  that,  until  final  trial,  persons 
claimed  as  slaves,  should  be  left  in  possession  of  their 
freedom,  although  they  were  required  to  give  bail  for 
their  appearance.  It  would  certainly  seem  that  Vir- 
ginia was  in  no  danger,  for  the  story  of  her  birth  was  a 
fiction;  it  of  course  could  never  be  substantiated  and  in 
the  mean  time  the  law  preserved  her  from  the  hands  of 
the  claimant.  It  was  not  yet  known  that  the  whole  pro- 
ceeding had  been  set  on  foot  by  the  magistrate  himself, 
nor  could  it  be  imagined  that  even  Appius  would  disre- 
gard one  of  the  provisions  of  his  own  code  which  he 
had  just  caused  to  be  engraved  upon  brass  and  placed  in 
the  comitium.  To  prevent  the  violation  of  law  by  such 
magistrates  as  he,  was  one  of  the  objects  sought  by  Ter- 
rentelius,  in  demanding  that  the  laws  be  reduced  to  writ- 
ing and  published. 

So  far  the  pretended  master  of  the  girl  had  only 
presented  his  formal  demand,  the  selection  of  a  judex 
and  the  trial  were  to  be  at  some  future  day  to  be  named. 
By  a  later  enactment,  the  time  for  the  second  appearance 
was  fixed  at  thirty  days,  although  now,  it  was  left  to  the 
discretion  of  the  magistrate.  Appius  was  too  consider- 
rate  to  hurry  on  the  proceeding  and  kindly  consented  to 
its  postponement,  but  the  girl  was  under  the  paternal 


194  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

power,  and  inasmuch  as  no  one-  except  the  lather  could 
give  lawful  bail  for  her  appearance,  he  directed  the 
claimant  to  take  her  to  his  house  and  give  security  for 
her  forthcoming-  when  the  father  should  answer  the 
summons.  Imagine  the  import  of  this.  She  was  to  be 
taken  by  this  dependant  of  Appius,  both  living  perhaps 
within  the  same  walls,  and  taken  as  his  slave,  legally  sub- 
ject to  his  absolute  control  even  to  the  taking  of  life. 
The  bystanders,  it  by  this  time  they  did  not  see  the 
object  of  the  whole  proceeding,  clearly  saw  the  effect  of 
this  order,  and  sent  up  a  groan  of  indignation.  Icilius, 
who  had  just  heard  of  the  conspiracy  against  the  honor 
of  his  affianced,  pressed  forward  through  the  lictors, 
took  his  stand  by  her  side,  was  followed  by  a  crowd  of 
sympathisers,  and  the  hounds  were  for  the  time  balked 
of  their  prey.  Meeting  with  this  unexpected  obstacle, 
the  Decemvir  was  forced  to  temporise,  and,  trusting  to 
the  cooling  effect  upon  the  crowd  of  a  little  delay,  and 
to  his  ability  to  bring  upon  the  ground  a  force  sufficient 
to  overcome  all  resistance,  announced  that  he  would  take 
bail  for  her  appearance  in  the  morning  when  he  would 
decide  the  preliminary  question  as  to  the  custody  of  the 
young  girl,  until  the  time  for  sending  the  parties  before 
the  judex. 

While  Icilius  detained  the  court  in  arranging  as  to 
sureties,  two  friends  of  Virginius  secretly  withdrew  and 
rode  with  all  speed  to  the  camp,  well  knowing  that  a 
little  delay  would  result  in  his  being  prevented  from  re- 
turning to  the  city,  The  brave  centurion  thus  notified, 
at  once  obtained  leave  of  absence,  and  was  on  his  way 
to  the  rescue  of  his  child  before  the  messengers  of  the 
Decemvir  had  reached  the  army  with  a  command  for 
his  detention.  Thus  the  wings  of  friendship  were 
swifter  than  those   of  lust.      There   was   little   sleep  that 


LECTURE  OF   PROF.    BLISS  195 

night  in  the  house  of  Vivginius.  The  animus  of  the 
Decemvir  must  have  been  suspected  and  if  the  suspicion 
should  be  verified  there  was  little  room  for  hope.  The 
implicit  obedience  given  to  the  orders  of  our  own  courts 
furnish  but  an  imperfect  idea  of  the  power  of  the  De- 
cemviral  tribunal.  This  man  was  not  only  the  highest 
judge,  but  he  was  as  a  very  king.  His  curule  seat  or 
throne,  his  robes,  his  eagle-mounted  scepter,  his  lictors 
were  all  royal.  He  sat  precisely  as  had  the  Tarquins, 
lacking  only  the  crown."  In  him  was  centered  for  the 
time  the  power  of  the  Consuls,  the  Proetors,  the  Tri- 
bunes, the  Quaestors,  the  Ediles;  any  resistance  to  his 
authority  was  not  simply  a  contempt  of  court,  it  was  re- 
bellion and  death. 

Early  in  the  morning  came  the  Decemvir  prepared 
to  meet  any  resistance.  Also  came  Virginias  in  the  at- 
tire of  a  suppliant,  followed  by  a  great  company  of 
Roman  matrons  and  friends,  and,  as  he  led  his  daughter 
into  the  forum,  appealing  to  the  bystanders,  showing 
that  his  cause  was  the  cause  of  all,  Icilius  joined  him 
and  also  invoked  his  friends  and  the  Roman  moth- 
ers who  had  followed  them,  added  their  tears  to  the 
general  sorrow.  The  multitude  were  moved  by  the 
scene,  but  Appius  had  prepared  himself  for  any  emer- 
gency by  bringing  to  the  Forum — into  court  as  we  should 
say — a  band  of  armed  patricians  to  aid  his  regular  lictors 
in  enforcing  any  order  he  might  make.  The  client  and 
pretended  master  Marcus  Claudius,  renewed  his  demand 
and  the  ermined  scoundrel,  eager  for  the  possession  of 
her  person,  hastened  to  decree  that  until  ihe  cause  should 
be  remanded  to  a  judex,  the  maiden  should  be  delivered 
as  a  slave  into  the  possession  of  her  master.  All  were 
shocked  by  so  bald  a  defiance  of  law.  I  say  all,  but  I 
do    not    include    those    bands    of  patrician    ruffians  who 


196  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 

were  always  ready  to  second  any  outrage  upon  the  com- 
mons, or  upon  the  honor  of  plebian  families.  Marcus 
went  to  lay  hold  of  the  girl,  Virginius  threatened,  the 
matrons  wept  aloud,  and  the  friends  of  the  centurion 
hurled  back  the  despot's  minion.  This  was  an  open  de- 
fiance of  the  court,  was  rebellion,  illegal  in  form, 
though  in  the  interest  of  law.  In  Republican  and  Pa- 
gan Rome  trials  happily  were  public — secret  tribunals 
were  reserved  for  another  age  and  another  faith — the 
reverence  tor  law  which  pre-eminently  controlled  the 
Roman  commons — that  conservative  instinct,  so  essen- 
tial to  the  life  of  a  free  state — had  rendered  these  trials, 
although  held  in  the  open  market  place,  as  orderly  as  in 
any  modern  hall  of  justice.  And  even  now,  und.^r  a 
provocation  that  would  justify  any  resistance,  the  habit- 
ual reverence  and  respect  felt  for  the  law  and  its  admin- 
istration by  those  who  thus  witnessed  their  fearful  pros- 
titution, served  well  the  purpose  of  the  tyrant.  The 
power  of  the  Tribunes  had  been  suspended,  Consuls  and 
Proetors  and  Dictators  had  all  given  way  to  the  Council 
of  Ten,  and  Appius  sat  in  the  forum,  in  the  accustomed 
seat  of  soverignty,  as  the  sole  representative  of  the  maj- 
esty of  the  law.  Rising  in  his  robes  of  office,  seeing 
on  either  side  his  lictors  with  their  axes,  and  behind 
them  his  bands  of  retainers  and  of  armed  patrician 
youth,  all  ready  to  do  his  bidding,  his  heart  was  re-as- 
sured. Stretching  forth  his  scepter,  he  boldly  doomed 
to  death  all  who  should  resist  his  mandate  and,  pointing 
to  the  trembling  maiden,  loudly  ordered  the  lictors  to 
disperse  the  mob  and  deliver  her  to  her  master.  As 
the  officers  stept  forward  to  obey,  the  people  instinctive- 
ly recoiled,  leaving  the  father  and  lover  alone  with  the 
unhappy  girl.  They  saw  that  it  was  impossible  to  re- 
sist, and  also  saw,  and  with  terrible  distinctness,  the  fate 


LECTURE  OF   PROF,  BLISS.  197 

that  awaited  her.  As  Virginius  looked  upon  his  daugh- 
ter, a  terrible  anguish  and  uncertainty  overspread  his 
face.  But  as  he  looked  again  at  Appius  and  at  the  ap- 
proaching lictors,  the  cloud  rolled  away  and  was  follow- 
ed by  a  strange  exaltation.  He  asked  permission  to  take 
his  daughter  and  her  maid  one  side  to  learn  from  the 
latter  whether  the  story  of  Marcus  was  true,  and  the 
tyrant,  seeing  it  to  be  impossible  for  them  to  escape,  and 
not  wishing  to  seem  wantonly  severe,  granted  the  re- 
quest. The  poor  girl  was  bewildered,  could  hardly 
take  in  the  import  of  what  was  passing,  but  with  child- 
ish faith  clung  to  her  lather,  while  almost  recoiling  from 
the  unwonted  fire  that  lit  his  eye.  He  led  her  to  the 
side  of  the  forum,  where  was  a  butcher's  stall,  seized 
a  knife  and,  huskily  saying,"This  my  daughter  will  keep 
thee  free,11  plunged  it  to  her  heart.  Raising  the  stream- 
ing blade  and  turning  to  the  baffled  Decemvir  he  ex- 
claimed, "Upon  thy  head,  tyrant  accursed,  be  the  blood; 
of  this  child,11  and  boldly  marching  through  the  Forum,. 
all  giving  way  and  the  lictors  themselves  too  paralized 
to  obey  the  orders  of  Appius  to  arrest  him,  he  mounted 
his  horse  and  rode  for  the  camp. 

Icilius  had  rushed  to  the  side  of  Virginius  and  re- 
ceived the  slain  maiden  from  his  hand.  By  the  aid  of 
his  friend  Numatorius,  he  improvised  a  litter  and  raised 
the  body  to  the  view  of  all.  ]S!o  mother  was  there,  she 
had  long  since  died,  and  sisters  she  had  none,  but  the 
young  brothers,  the  kinsman  and  a  multitude  of  friends, 
all  crowded  round.  Some  wailed,  some  cursed,  some 
only  wept.  They  deplored  the  fatal  beauty  of  Virginia, 
the  dire  necessity  of  the  father.  "Is  it  for  this11  exclaim- 
ed the  matrons,  "that  we  rear  our  daughters  in  virtue?" 
A  sad  procession  started  for  the  home  of  Virginius  upon 
the  Aventine.    Icilius  was  known  to  all:  be  was  too  full  to 


198  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

weep,  almost  to  speak;  as  he  led  the  procession  and  rec- 
ognized his  friends  he  could  only  point  to  the  body  and 
to  the  forum  where  Appius  still  sat.  To  young-  Ve- 
suvius, just  coming-  in  from  the  country,  known  to  be 
betrothed  to  a  friend  of  Virginia  and  clamorously  won- 
dering what  all  this  meant,  he  could  only  say:  "Your 
turn  my  friend  will  come  next."  In  threading  the  Ve- 
labrum  and  passing  under  the  Palatine,  the  first  home 
of  the  robber  band  that  founded  the  citv  and  the  con- 
tinued home  of  their  robber  descendants,  Icilius  could 
but  hurl  a  halt  smothered  curse  at  the  gloomy  houses  of 
the  tyrant  caste,  as  their  dark  walls  frowned  down  upon 
them.  But  soon  the  procession  rose  from  the  valley  and 
the  body  was  tenderly  deposited  in  the  house  of  Virgin- 
ius.  "Dearest,"  said  the  patriot  lover  as  he  stooped  to 
imprint  a  fevered  kiss,  "thou  shall  yet  rest  in  peace!  the 
tyrant  shall  die!  Let  thy  shade  attend  me  until  sweet 
revenge  shall  open  to  thee  the  gates  of  the  blest!"  and 
tearing  themselves  away  he  and  his  friend  left  for  sterner 
duties. 

Thev  were  not  allowed  to  begin  the  fight.  Appius 
had  ordered  Icilius  to  be  seized,  and  he  himself,  leading 
his  lictors  and  the  band  of  young  patricians  that  sur- 
rounded him,  rushed  forward  to  make  the  arrest.  But 
in  the  mean  time  Valerius  and  Horatius,  leaders  of  the 
small  band  of  patricians,  who  had  always  sought  justice 
for  the  plebians,  had  appeared  upon  the  scene  and 
rallied  the  people  around  Icilius.  Their  appeals  fell  on 
willing  ears.  The  shopman  who  had  daily  smiled 
upon  the  young  girl,  as,  in  her  fresh  beauty,  with  pencil 
and  tablet,  she  passed  on  her  way  to  school,  the  father 
who  thought  of  his  daughters  at  home,  the  lover  who 
knew  not  but  the  turn  of  his  own  betrothed  would  come 
next,  the  citizen  who,  after  having  obtained  the  codifica- 


LECTURE  OF    PROF.    BLISS.  199 

tion  of  the  laws  and  their  equal  application  to  all,  had 
fancied  himself  secure  in  his  rights,  all  felt  that  the  cause 
was  theirs,  and  placed  themseves  under  their  new  lead- 
ers. The  fasces  of  the  lictors  were  broken  and  the  pa- 
trician band  was  driven  back.  Appius  again  mounts  his 
throne  and  demands  obedience.  Valerius,  speaking  with 
the  authority  of  a  senator,  pronounces  him  a  usurper 
and  orders  his  guards  to  leave  him.  But  by  this  time 
the  story  of  the  Decemvir's  crime  had  run  through  the 
city;  the  whole  body  of  the  commons  had  become 
aroused  and  the  mad  murmur  ot  the  thick  gathering 
crowd,  like  the  roar  of  approaching  breakers,  paralized 
the  lictors  and  the  young  bravos  who  had  come  to  see 
the  sport  -and  to  enforce  the  degradation  of  a  plebian 
house,  slunk  out  of  sight. 

Appius  is  left  alone  with  his  lictors.  See  the  aris- 
tocrat, the  demagogue,  the  tyrant,  as,  now  pale,  now 
red,  he  crouches  with  terror  at  some  fresh  burst  of  pop- 
ular wrath,  or,  assuming  courage  as  the  storm  may  seem 
to  lull,  pours  out  anathemas  in  the  name  of  the  gods 
and  of  Rome,  or,  struck  by  a  fresh  missile,  pales  again, 
stretches  out  his  scepter,  wondering  that  the  emblem  of 
sovreignty  to  which  all  were  wont  to  bow,  should  no 
longer  protect  him !  What  now  to  him  are  the  roval 
robes,  what  the  ivory  scepter,  the  curule  chair!  See 
Icilius,  the  pale  stern  lover,  the  peoples,  friend,  as,  under 
the  wing  of  the  two  senators,  he  leads  them  on!  Hear 
him  shout  the  curse  of  the  blood  stained  father,  "On  thy 
head,  tyrant  accursed,  be  the  blood  of  this  child!"  Ah, 
sir;  this  is  not  the  couch  to  which  you  invited  yourself, 
nor  the  dalliance  which  you  craved!  Look!  The 
missiles  come  thicker  and  faster.  Bruised  and  bleeding, 
covering  his  head  with  his  robe  of  state,  the  Decemvir 
bids  the  lictors  hurry  him  off,  and    he  succeeds  in  hiding* 


200  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 

himself  behind  a  near  and  friendly  wall. 

History  repeats  itself.  Almost  in  our  own  day  we 
have  seen  a  Jeffries,  the.  browbeating,  the  cruel,  the  un- 
just judge,  cower  in  abject  terror  behind  prison  walls,  as 
he  hears  the  people  cry  for  vengeance  upon  his  guilty 
head. 

Oppius,  one  of  the  Decemvirs,  finding  his  colleague 
Appius  already  driven  from  the  seat  of  power  and  the 
city  in  an  insurrection  which  he  was  impotent  to  quell, 
called  together  the  Senate.  This  seems  to  be  the  only 
body  whose  authority  at  this  time  was  not  superceded  by 
that  of  the  Decemvirs.  Its  constitutional  existence,  with 
great  but  somewhat  varying  authority,  was,  at  all  times 
and  by  all  parties,  treated  as  a  matter  of  course.  The 
Senate  met;  it  was  not  disposed  to  hurry  in  its  delibera- 
tions, thinking  perhaps  that  the  popular  fever  would 
cool ;  the  army  at  least  was  secure. 

We  left  Virginius  on  his  way  to  the  army  stained 
with  blood  and  bearing  the  bloody  knife  with  which  he 
had  delivered  his  daughtei'.  He  was  followed  by  many 
who  had  witnessed  the  scene.  The  story  of  her  sad 
fate,  of  the  passion  and  cruel  judgment  of  Appius,  flew 
through  the  camp.  Had  there  been  no  other  ground  of 
complaint,  this  might  not  have- been  sufficient  to  drive 
the  citizen  soldiers  to  extreme  measures.  But  as  we 
have  seen,  immediately  upon  the  election  of  the  last  De- 
cemvirs, Appius  had  deserted  those  who  had  chosen  him 
and  reconciled  himself  to  the  aristocracy.  To  earn  its  fa- 
vor he  had  at  all  times  abetted  or  winked  at  the  custom- 
ary outrages  upon  the  commons,  a  favorite  one  being  the 
profanation  of  their  families.  It  is  related  also  that  a 
distinguished  soldier,  whose  body  showed  scars  from 
wounds  received  in  more  than  a  hundred  battles,  but  who 
had  offended  the   Decemvirs,  had  been   found  dead  near 


LECTURE    OF  PROF.    BLISS.  201 

the  camp,  and  that  circumstances  pointed  clearly  to  those 
m  command  as  having  procured  his  assassination.  Un- 
der these  circumstances  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  story  of 
Virginius  was  like  a  spark  to  a  magazine.  The  legion 
rose  as  one  man,  threw  off  the  authority  of  its  comman- 
der, marched  to  Rome,  entered  the  Colline  gate  in  mar- 
tial order,  threaded  the  chief  streets  and  camped  on 
Mount  Aventine.  They  elected  ten  military  tribunes 
and  refused  to  receive  any  message  from  the  Senate  un- 
less sent  thi'ough  their  friends  Valerius  and  Horatius. 
In  the  mean  time  Icilius  and  his  friend  Numitorius  had 
gone  to  another  camp  of  the  Romans  at  Fedina?  and  the 
same  story  produced  the  same  effect.  This  army  also 
expelled  its  commander,  chose  other  ten  Tribunes  of  the 
soldiers,  marched  to  Rome  and  joined  their  brethren 
upon  the  plebian  hill.  Here  the  Tribunes  chose  two  to 
represent  the  twenty,  and  all  waited  to  hear  from  the 
Senate.  But  that  body  temporized,  it  had  no  love  for 
the  Decemvirs,  nor  can  we  believe  that  the  senators  ap- 
proved of  the  personal  indignities  from  which  so  many 
of  the  commons  had  suffered,  but  it  hated  the  Tribu- 
nate and  the  Tribunate  was  just  what  the  people  wanted. 
Every  other  scheme  for  protection  had  failed,  while  this 
seemingly  anarchial  magistracy  had  usually  been  suc- 
cessful, and  the  Senators  had  no  hope,  if  the  present 
government  should  be  suppressed,  of  being  able  to  avoid 
its  restoration. 

The  Senate  made  no  movement  toward  pacification 
and  the  commons  saw  that  they  must  do  something 
more  than  appeal  to  its  sense  of  justice.  For  nearly 
a  hundred  years  the  struggle  had  been  going  on.  Two 
of  the  later  kings  had  been  murdered  because  of  their 
desire  to  recognize  the  plebs  as  part  of  the  State, 
to  protect  them  from  the  rapacity  of  the  patricians;  the 


202  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

last  king  had  oppressed  both  orders  and  the  subordi- 
nate one  had  been  induced  to  unite  in  his  expulsion  by 
being-  promised  a  constitution  that  should  guard  their 
rights.  In  many  subsequent  struggles  the  plebians  suc- 
ceeded in  procuring  the  passage  of  laws,  which,  had  they 
been  observed,  would  have  given  them  reasonable  pro- 
tection, but  in  every  case  they  were  trampled  under  foot 
or  rendered  nugatory  by  patrician  perfidy.  Finally, 
after  a  ten  year's  struggle,  they  had  obtained  an  excel- 
lent code  of  laws,  to  whose  protection  they,  as  well  as 
the  patricians,  were  entitled,  had  surrendered  their  own 
special  magistracy — their  own  separate  existence  as  it 
were — that  the  Romans  might  be  one  people  and  had 
elected  one  which  they  supposed  could  be  trusted.  But 
this  panacea  for  all  their  ills  had  turned  to  ashes  on 
their  lips.  Their  old  enemies  had  seduced  the  magis- 
trates; the  most  sacred  of  laws  was  trampled  under  foot; 
they  could"  no  longer  look  to  the  Tribunes  for  protec- 
tion, and  they  seemed  more  helpless  than  ever.  While 
the  remembrance  of  these  things  inspired  only  despair  of 
justice  at  home  it  also  nerved  their  will  and  turned  even 
their  patriotism  into  hate.  "Why,"  exclaimed  they, 
"should  we  longer  hold  connection  with  an  order  bound 
by  no  oaths,  subject  to  no  laws,  bent  only  upon  monop- 
oly and  oppression?  We  form  the  great  body  of  the 
army, — without  the  solid  cohorts  composed  of  the  peas- 
ant freeholders  of  Rome  it  would  be  weak  and  worth- 
less— why  not  march  out,  carry  with  us  our  little  move- 
ables, but  especially  our  newly  won  laws,  and  establish  a 
new  Rome?  Why  not  leave  the  lawless  patricians 
with  their  clients  and  slaves  to  defend  territory  which 
they  insist  on  monopolizing  and  to  pursue  alone  their 
career  of  conquest."  Thus  reasoned  the  commons,  and 
they  again   determined   to  leave   the  city.     "Ho  for  the 


LECTURE   OF    PROF.   BLISS.  203 

sacred  mount!"  was  shouted  from  the  hills  and  rang 
through  the  plebian  quarters,  and  the  legions  again 
marched  down  the  Aventine,  through  the  Velabrum,  up 
the  valley,  crossing  the  forum,  threading  the  Subura, 
passing  up  to  the  plain  behind  the  Quirinal  and  Vimi- 
nal  hills  and  out  through  the  Colline  gate.  They  were 
followed  by  their  families  and  such  of  their  order  as 
could  leave,  and  the  whole  proceeded  to  occupy  the  sa- 
cred mount  just  beyond  the  Anio.  The  pomerium  of  a 
new  city  was  traced  and  the  walls  began  to  rise.  The 
Senate,  seeing  the  scceders  in  earnest,  took  the  alarm. 
Whatever  the  fate  of  the  new  city,  the  old  would  cer- 
tainly he  ruined.  Mons  Sacra  was  within  the  Roman 
territory,  the  seceders  were  the  stronger  of  the  two  par- 
ties, they  would  not  he  likely  to  surrender  their  holdings 
outside  the  city  walls  or  to  permit  their  enemies  to  con- 
tinue to  hold  the  common  territory  of  the  Repuhlic.  A 
delegation  was  at  once  sent  to  the  sacred  mouitt  to  learn 
what  was  demanded.  The  messengers  were  Horatius 
and  Valerius,  to  whom  alone,  as  before  announced, 
would  the  commons  listen.  Their  absolute  demands 
were  very  moderate:  First,  the  restoration  of  the  Tri- 
bunate; second,  the  right  of  appeal  to  the  Centuries  or 
Tribes  from  the  criminal  judgments  of  the  patrician 
magistrates;  third,  that  the  Decemvirs  be  given  up  to 
be  burned  with  fire,  and  fourth,  amnesty.  These  were 
the  ultimatum,  although  it  is  probable  that  the  messen- 
gers were  given  to  understand  that  the  commons  would 
demand  in  a  regular  wav  new  constitutional  concessions 
substantially  like  those  embraced  in  what  were  shortly 
known  as  the  Licinian  Laws.  They' were  induced  to 
forego  their  demand  for  the  blood  of  the  Decemvirs 
and,  as  a  pledge  that  the  others  should  be  complied  with, 
possession    of  the    Capitoline    Hill,  embracing    not   only 


204  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

the  citadel  but  the  sacra  of  the  state,  was  to  be  surren- 
dered to  them.  On  the  return  of  the  commissioners  the 
Senate  was  but  too  glad  to  accept  the  proffered  condi- 
tions, directed  the  Decemvirs  to  abdicate,  which  was 
done,  and  the  commons  returned,  took  possession  of  the 
Capitol,  and,  if  they  had  ever  wholly  given  it  up,  reoc- 
eupied  their  own  Aventine,  and   elected  their   Tribunes. 

In  this  connection,  to  make  the  story  of  Virginia 
complete,  I  may  be  permitted  to  speak  of  the  fate  of 
Appius,  although  it  was  not  met  until  after  the  adoption 
of  the  Licinian  constitution,  which  was  next  in  the  order 
of  time. 

Although  the  leaders  of  the  seceders  had  waived 
their  demand  that  the  Decemvirs  be  outlawed,  it  is  not 
to  be  supposed  that  any  idea  was  entertained  of  exempt- 
ing Appius  Claudius  from  responsibility  for  his  crime. 
Under  our  system,  a  judge  cannot  be  held  responsible 
by  a  civil  or  criminal  proceeding  for  errors,  even 
though  malicious  ones,  committed  in  discharging  the 
duties  of  his  office,  and  impeachment  only  removes  him 
from  office,  although  in  England  it  may  have  a  much 
more  serious  result.  The  Tribunes  were  empowered  to 
impeach  before  their  own  constituents,  the  plebian  tribes, 
any  patrician,  although  a  Consul  or  Senator,  who  should 
violate  the  laws  enacted  for  the  special  protection  of  the 
commons  or  their  officers,  and  under  this  power,  dis- 
tinguished citizens  like  Coriolanus,  and  Keso  Quinctius, 
the  son  of  Cincinnatus,  had  been  driven  into  exile. 
The  tribunate  is  now  restored  and  Virginius  and  Icilius 
are  two  of  the  Tribunes.  It  is  too  much  to  expect  that 
they  could  forget  Che  recent  outrage  upon  the  law  under 
which  the  former  felt  compelled  to  take  the  life  of  a 
dear  daughter  in  order  to  protect  her  from  the  ruffianly 
arms  of  a   judge  whom  the  law  made  her  shield  and  pro- 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.     BLI«S.  206 

tector.  Appius  the  tyrant  is  impeached  by  Virginius 
his  victim.  Instead  of  quietly  submitting  to  his  fate,  or 
perhaps  avoiding  it  by  a  modest  bearing,  he  accelerated 
it  by  appearing  in  the  Forum  surrounded  by  his  patri- 
cian bravos,  as  if  to  overawe  the  tribune.  The  first  ques- 
tion in  all  cases  of  arrest  is  that  of  bail.  Most  offences 
were  then,  as  they  are  now,  bailable.  Ordinarily,  then 
as  now,  capital  offenses  were  not.  For  a  magistrate 
during  a  trial  to  wilfully  violate  a  plain  law  involving 
life  or  liberty,  was,  especially  under  impeachment,  a 
capital  offense.  Virginius  therefore  ruled  that  an  issue 
should  be  made  up,  to  be  tried  before  a  judex  as  a  pre- 
liminary question,  whether  Appius  "had  not  in  a  ques- 
tion of  personal  freedom,  assumed  that  the  presumption 
was  in  favor  of  slavery,  in  having  adjudged  Virginia  to 
be  regarded  as  a  slave  till  she  was  proved  free,  instead 
of  regarding  her  as  entitled  to  her  freedom  till  she  was 
proved  a  slave."  He  of  course  could  not  meet  this  issue 
and  pending  his  trial  was  ordered  to  the  terrible  Ma- 
mertine  prison.  Before  being  committed  his  uncle,  not 
only  a  very  respectable  citizen,  but  an  opponent  of  the 
mad  schemes  of  his  nephew,  appeared  and  besought  the 
Tribunes  to  accept  bail.  It  would  be  a  disgrace  to 
Rome  said  he  to  throw  into  the  dungeon  with  burglars 
and  robbers,  one  who  had  been  chief  magistrate  of  the 
city,  but  they  all  sternly  refused.  The  prison  into 
which  he  was  cast  was  built  near  the  Forum  by  king 
Servius  Tullius,  and  its  lower  vaults  are  as  gloomy  and 
solid  to-day  as  they  were  twenty-five  hundred  years  ago. 
Appius  never  came  out.  Before  the  day  of  trial  he 
was  found  dead  and  it  was  reported  that  in  dispair  of  the 
result,  he  had  taken  his  own  life.  Oppius  was  also 
thrown  into  prison  and  shared  the  same  fate.  Marcus 
Claudius,  the  tool  of  Appius,  and  the  rest  of  the  Decern- 


206 


UNIVKKSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 


virs  were  suffered  to  go  into  exile,  and  thus  in  the  lan- 
guage of  Livy,  "'The  shade  of  Virginia,  more  fortunate 
after  death  than  when  living,  after  having  roamed 
through  so  many  families  in  quest  of  vengeance,  at 
length  rested  in  peace  satisfied  that  all  the  guilty  were 
punished.1'  And  we  may  well  believe  that  this  stern 
retribution  not  only  gave  rest  to  the  ghost  of  the  fair 
maiden,  but  that  fathers  and  mothers  felt  safer  in  Rome 
from  the  outcome  of  this  conspiracy  against  the  honor 
of  the  family  of   Virginius. 


^^CORRECTIONS.  =?C 

For  «  Plebians  "  read  «  Plehaeans,"  passim. 

«  Terrentelius"  read  «  Terrentilius,"  passim, 
"jus  naturce"   page  1S6,   line    15,   read   "jus  naturale," 
and  in  next  line  insert  "citizens  of"  before  "  Rome.'1 
"The  legion  rose  as  one  man,"  on  page   201,  lines  3  and 
4,  read  "  The  body  of  the  legion  rose." 

"ultimatum"  page  203,  8th  line  from  bottom,  read  "ulti- 
mata." 

was"  page  187,  line  9,  read  "were." 


"       u 


LINGUISTIC  CURIOSITIES. 


By  David  R.  McAnally,  Jr.,  A.  M.,  Professob 
of  English  Literature  in  the  University  of 
the  State  of  Missouri. 

With  a  zeal  worthy  of  a  better  cause,  the  disciples 
of  Darwin  have  labored  long  and  earnestly  to  show 
how  a  scientist  of  the  modern  school  may  be  evolved 
from  a  lower  order  of  animal.  Taking  a  monkey  as 
raw  material,  they  have  driven  back  his  jaw,  elevated 
his  nose,. broadened  his  forehead,  enlarged  the  capacity 
of  his  skull,  shortened  his  arms,  lengthened  his  legs, 
turned  his  first  finger  over  to  represent  a  thumb,  endow- 
ed him  with  one  faculty  akin  to  reason,  a  second  some- 
thing like  memory,  the  idea  of  property,  and  a  distant 
conception  of  the  notion  of  right  and  wrong;  but  here, 
unfortunately  for  themselves,  they  were  forced  to  call  a 
halt.  Could  they  have  proceeded  one  step  father,  and 
made  the  animal  talk,  or  utter  so  much  as  a  single  word, 
they  might  have  claimed  a  grand  victory  for  themselves 
and  the  monkey;  but  the  monkey  held  his  peace,  and 
the  scientists  perceived  that,  leaving  the  spark  of  im- 
mortality out  of  the  question,  the  beast  was  of  an  entire- 
ly different  family;  that  between  him  and  themselves 
there  was  a  great  gulf  fixed;  that  they  could  neither 
pass  to  him  nor  he  to  them.     Darwin,  and   Huxley,  and 


208  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

their  like,  have  made  interesting-  discoveries  in  natural 
history,  but  the  investigations  of  many  a  long  lifetime, 
given  up  to  experimenting  and  speculating,  have  un- 
earthed no  more  curious  fact  than  the  one  known  from 
the  beginning — that  language  belongs  to  man  alone. 
Commonplace  as  the  idea  has  become,  through  millions 
of  repetitions,  it  is  yet  worthy  of  careful  consideration; 
and,  beyond  all  question,  the  closer  the  examination  of 
it,  the  more  curious  will  it  appear.  From  the  savage 
bushman  of  the  South  African  plains,  whose  vocal 
clicks  sounded  so  much  like  a  combination  of  the  sylla- 
ble "hot"  with  "tot"  that  more  civilized  men  called  him 
a  "Hottentot,"  to  the  Parisian  of  to-day,  who  derives 
the  name  of  his  race  and  country  from  the  most  gener- 
ous people  known  in  history;  from  the  Digger  Indian 
to  the  occupant  of  an  English  palace;  from  Peter,  the 
wild  boy,  to  Shakspeare,  the  possession  of  language 
unites,  as  with  an  iron  band,  the  human  race  in  one  vast 
family.  Existing  before  society,  without  it  society 
wTould  be  an  impossibility;  and  a  band  of  men  would 
have  no  more  permanent  bond  of  union  than  would  a 
herd  of  cattle,  or  a  school  of  porpoises.  It  enables  the 
merchant  to  get  lawful  gain,  the  miser  to  accumulate 
unlawful  gold;  it  helps  the  farmer  to  sow  his  wheat,  and 
the  miller  to  grind  his  grain;  it  is  the  doctor's  chief  as- 
sistant, and  the  lawyer's  reliance.  Without  it,  our  fel- 
lowmen  could  not  care  for  our  bodies,  nor  our  clergy- 
men for  our  souls.  "Therewith  bless  we  God,  even  the 
Father;  and  therewith  curse  we  men,  which  are  made 
after  the  similitude  of  God." 

It  is  a  perfectly  natural  consequence,  therefore,  of 
the  universality  of  language  among  men,  that  it  should 
constitute  a  sure  index  to  character.  A  great  diplomat- 
ist of  the  past  has  had  the  credit  of  saying,  "Language 


LECTURE!   OF  PROF.   MCANALLY.  209 

was  given  us  to  conceal  rather  than  to  reveal  our 
thoughts,"  hut  he  belied  his  own  words.  There  is  a  wide 
difference  between  being  deceitful  and  indicating  charac- 
ter by  unguarded  utterances.  Many  deceive  others,  and 
even  themselves,  by  saying  what  they  do  not  mean;  but 
the  manner,  the  tone,  the  general  characteristics  of  the 
utterance,  far  more  than  the  matter,  furnish  a  criterion 
so  infallible  that  no  one,  save  by  his  own  fault,  need  be 
deceived  or  mistaken.  The  man  who  carefully  weighs 
every  word  before  he  utters  it,  who  considers  its  purity, 
its  adaptation  to  the  case  before  him,  and  its  application 
in  the  conveyance  of  the  idea  he  wishes  to  express,  is,  as 
a  rule,  a  man  of  order,  of  system,  whose  acts  will  be  the 
subjects  of  such  deliberation  that,  with  him,  an  error  in 
conduct  will  he  extremely  improbable.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  heedless,  incautious,  careless  fellow,  constantly 
saying  ten  times  as  much  as  he  means,  and  meaning  ten 
time  as  much  as  he  feels,  the  Alfred  Jingle  of  society, 
jumping  from  one  subject  to  another,  as  capricious  as 
the  mountain  goat,  from  which  this  adjective  takes  its 
name,  is  a  man  really  deserving  of  pity.  He  uses 
millions  of  words  laboriously  to  say  nothing,  and  though 
possessed  of  two  ears,  two  eyes,  two  hands,  and  but 
one  tongue,  persists  in  violating  the  law  of  nature  by 
talking  more  than  twice  as  much  as  he  hears,  observes, 
or  performs. 

Passing  by  a  natural  gradation  from  the  individual 
to  the  aggregation  of  individuals  in  a  nation,  we  find 
the  same  general  index  of  character  in  a  nation's  lan- 
guage as  in  that  of  an  individual.  The  modern  Italian 
is  smooth,  flowing  in  an  even  stream,  without  the  ripple 
of  a  single  disturbing  consonant;  the  natural  language 
of  lyvic  poetry  and  of  the  opera,  and  did   we  not  know 


210  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

the  fact,  we  might,  from  the  language,  infer  that  the 
nation  using  this  tongue  is  a  nation  of  opera  singers. 
French,  the  language  of  polite  conversation,  is  another 
illustration  of  the  general  statement  that  national  lan- 
guage is  a  reflex  of  national  character;  while  German, 
the  language  of  speculation  and  philosophy,  and  Eng- 
lish, the  language  of  science  and  business,  are,  perhaps, 
unneeded  examples.  The  statement  has  been  made 
that  the  national  salutation  furnishes  a  key  to  the 
national  peculiarities  of  character,  and  there  really 
seems  to  be  some  ground  for  the  assertion.  The  Span- 
iard, haughty,  proud  of  his  nationality,  independent,  car- 
ing for  nobody  but  himself,  enquires:  Come  staP — 
"How  do  you  stand?"  Erect,  unbending,  he  stands  for 
himself,  and  hopes  you  do  the  same.  The  French, 
little  Monsieur  and  Madame,  a\e  carrying  themselves 
here,  there,  and  everywhere,  in  an  effort  to  find  some- 
thing n.jw,  or  to  extract  a  little  more  amusement  from 
something  old.  They  imagine  that  you  must  do  the  like, 
and  consequently  ask:  '•'•Comment  vous  ftortcz-vous /"' — 
"How  do  you  carry  yourself?"  as  if  earning  one's  self 
about  was  the  chief  end  of  man.  One  German  asks: 
"  Wie  befinden  sie  sick  ?n — "How  do  you  find  yourself?" 
since  he  likes  to  find  himself  without  much  hunting; 
while  another  enquires,"  Wie  gehts  ?" — "How  goes  it?" 
as  being  perfectly  satisfied  to  let  it  go  if  it  wanted  to, 
since  it  makes  no  difference  to  him.  The  English, 
"How  are  you?"  is  solid  and  substantial,  while  the 
American,  "How  do  you  do?"  is  strongly  indicative  of 
the  driving,  bustling  character  of  our  people,  who  are 
content  neither  with  standing,  sitting,  carrying  them- 
selves, finding  themselves,  nor  letting  it  go;  but  must,  as 
one  of  their  representative  men  has  said,  "be  up  and 
doing,  with  a  heart  for  any  fate." 


I/KCTOKE    OF   PROF.  MCANALLY.  211 

The  learned  and  pious  Dr.  Richard  Trench  has 
taken  so  much  pains  to  discover  the  hidden  property  of 
words,  has  forced  so  many  of  them  to  stand  and  deliver 
their  concealed  goods,  has  burrowed  intc  so  many  out- 
of-the-way  nooks  and  corners  of  the  English  language, 
and  dragged  thence  into  the  light  so  many  illustrations 
of  the  principles  he  laid  down,  that,  in  spite  of  his  occa- 
sional flights  of  imagination,  and  of  his  proneness  to  see 
a  little  more  poetry  in  the  history  of  a  word  than  is 
visible  to  the  average  eye,  his  works  must  long  remain 
standard.  From  him  we  have  the  idea  that  language  is 
"fossil  poetry ;"  that  some  words  are  themselves  store- 
houses of  poetic  thought  and  fancy ;  that,  however  trite 
they  may  now  appear  to  lis,  by  reason  of  constant  use, 
they  once  were  triumphs  of  lovely  imagery,  and  per- 
chance displayed  more  of  the  spirit  of  the  muses  than 
many  a  labored  production  in  iambics  or  hexameters. 
Take,  for  example,  the  illustration  he  gives  of  the  word 
"sierra,"  originally  meaning  a  saw.  The  application  of 
the  term  to  the  irregularly  jugged  ranges  of  Spain 
shows  a  poetic  fervor  of  high  grade.  As  Trench  fur- 
ther remarks,  "For  us,  very  often,  the  poetry  of  words 
has  in  great  part,  or  altogether,  disappeared.  But  had  it 
not  existed,  Margaret  had  not  been  for  us  'the  pearl,' 
nor  Esther,  'the  star,'  nor  Susannah,  'the  lily,'  nor 
Stephen,  'the  crown.'  "  So  soon,  however,  as  we  enter 
the  fairy  region  of  word-poetry,  examples  multiply  so 
rapidly  as  to  defy  mention  or  enumeration.  From  the 
mass,  two  may  he  selected,  not  as  samples,  but  by  reason 
of  their  pre-eminently  illustrating  the  fact  that  there 
really  may  be  poetry  in  a  name.  The  one  is  "topaz,"  so 
called,  according  to  Pliny,  from  the  Greek  word  iofa- 
zeiu,  to  guess  or  conjecture,  because  men  were  able  only 
to  conjecture  the  geographical  position  of  the   mysteri- 


212  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

ous,  cloud-covered  island  on  which  the  jewel  was  sup- 
posed to  be  found;  the  other  is  "carbuncle,"  from  "car- 
hunculus?  a  "little,  burning  coal."  None  but  a  man  ot 
lively,  poetic  imagination  could  ever  have  applied  such 
names  to  these  jewels,  and  the  continuance  of  their  use 
and  correct  understanding  of  their  signification  gives  an 
additional  attraction  even  to  the  beautiful  gems  they 
designate. 

Upon  entering  the  realm  of  the  beautiful,  as  repre- 
sented by  flowers,  the  poetrjr  becomes  more  plainly 
manifest.  An  old  Persian  poet,  having  his  claim  to  the 
title  of  bard  questioned,  declared:  "I  love  God,  flowers 
and  little  children,"  and  considered  that  he  had  fully  es- 
tablished his  right.  Certain  it  is,  that  poetry  and 
flowers  are  always  mentally  associated,  and  it  is  not, 
therefore,  strange  that  the  beautiful  imagery  of  the  one 
should  be  found  in  almost  every  name  given  to  plants. 
Take,  for  instance,  the  beautiful  name,  arbor  vitce^  "the 
tree  of  life,"  and  how  naturally  and  poetically  it  is  ap- 
propriated to  that  shrub,  which,  in  winter  snows,  and 
under  circumstances  of  much  adversity,  still  presents  to 
our  view  a  cheerful  green.  "The  catch-fly,"  "the  fly- 
trap," the  "snap-dragon,"  the  "snowball,"  the  "love-in-a- 
mist,"  the  "love-lies-bleeding,"  the  "trumpet-flower," 
and  the  "Venus'-looking-glass,"  are  but  further  illustra- 
tions of  the  poetry  to  be  found  in  the  names  of  flowers; 
and  the  list  may  be  indefinitely  extended  by  any  one 
who  cares  to  refer  to  a  floral  dictionary.  The  "sun- 
flower" and  the  "daisy"  furnish  a  curious  example.  The 
former  is  so  named  from  the  fact  that  its  yellow  center 
is  supposed  to  bear  an  imaginary  resemblance  to  the  sun, 
and  the  white  border  to  the  corona  or  glory  surrounding 
that  luminary.  The  daisy  is  named  from  the  same  gen- 
eral resemblance,  but  as  Chaucer  gives  it,  the   name  is 


LECTURE  OF    PROP.    MCANALLY.  213 

much  more  poetical.     He  calls  it  the  "day's  eye,"  or  the 

"eye  of  day." 

"That  well  by  reason  it  men  callen  may 
The  daisie,  or  else  the  'eye  ol"  day.'  " 

And  it  cannot  be  denied  that,  in  a  poetic  way,  we 
gain  much  by  this  designation. 

Leaving  flowers  for  more  practical  affairs,  it  will 
not  be  questioned  that  the  German  who  first  conceived 
the  glove  to  be  a  shoe  for  the  hand,  a  hand-schuh,  while 
he  who  imagined  a  thimble  to  be  a  hat  for  the  finger,  a 
jingcr-hut,  might,  in  point  of  imagination,  have  put  to 
the  blush  many  an  aspiring  poet.  With  regard  to  the 
hand-schuh,  while  it  may  not  be  difficult  to  recognize 
the  fitness  of  the  term,  all  difficulty  of  every  character 
will  instantly  vanish  when  we  recognize  that  the 
authorities  tell  us  that  the  first  gloves  worn  in  the  north 
of  Europe  were  simply  bags,  into  which  the  hands 
were  thrust  for  the  purpose  of  warmth.  The  addition 
of  a  thumb  in  the  present  mitten  fashion  was  regarded 
as  a  wonderful  innovation,  while  the  separate  compart- 
ments for  the  fingers  were  of  comparatively  modern  in- 
vention. Thus  the  old  bag-glove  bore  a  more  decided 
resemblance  to  the  covering  for  the  foot  than  might  at 
first  be  supposed. 

With  regard  to  the  morality  of  words,  Trench  is 
essentially  a  pessimist,  and  consequently  takes  the  worst, 
view  of  humanity,  as  illustrated  by  language,  that  he 
can  persuade  his  conscience  to  allow.  While,  however, 
the  reader  may  not  be  disposed  to  accept  in  full  the  con- 
clusions of  Trench,  it  cannot  be  denied  that,  to  no  in- 
considerable extent,  man  has  degraded  his  language 
with  himself,  or,  to  speak  more  properly,  certain  classes, 
or  conditions  of  men  have  so  uniformly  demonstrated 
their    low  standard  ol  morality,    that  the    name  of  the 


214  UNIVERSITY   OP   MISSOURI. 

class  has  long  been  applied  to  designate  individuals  who, 
in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  possessed  the  predominant 
quality  of  the  class.  Thus,  a  "knave"  was  once  a  boy; 
then  a  boy-servant,  then  a  scoundrel,  and  a  curious  com- 
mentary on  the  universality  of  roguery  among  boy-ser- 
vants might  be  written  in  tracing  the  gradual  change  in 
the  history  of  this  well-known  word.  A  "boor"  was 
once  a  farmer,  and  not  an  ill-mannered  man;  a  "villain" 
once  a  peasant,  and  not  a  cut-throat;  a  "varlet"  was  a 
servant,  and  not  a  rascal;  a  "time-server"  was  an  honor- 
able man,  and  not  a  disgusting  truckler;  "tinsel"  was 
formerly  made  of  pure  gold;  "voluble"  was  a  compli- 
mentary expression,  and  not  a  term  of  reproach;  "preju- 
dice" was  a  previously-formed  opinion,  whether  good  or 
bad;  a  "black-guard"  was  simply  a  scullion;  an  "idiot" 
was  not  a  natural  fool,  but,  as  Jeremy  Taylor  uses  the 
word,  a  private  citizen  as  opposed  to  an  office-holder. 
The  word  "heathen,"  now  used  to  designate  a  worshiper 
of  idols,  shows  a  curious  bit  of  linguistic  history.  It 
was  formerly  applied  solely  to  the  dwellers  on  the  Ger- 
man heaths,  and  a^  these  were  uncultured  people,  and 
among  the  last  to  adopt  the  doctrines  and  practice  of 
Christianity,  the  people  of  the  latter  creed  came  little 
by  little  to  consider  the  name  of  a  heath-dweller  as 
synonjmious  with  that  of  an  unbeliever,  and  to  lose  the 
original  application  of  the  word  required  then  but  little 
time.  In  an  invaluable  note  at  the  end  of  the  twenty- 
first  chapter  of  his  "Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman 
Empire,"  Gibbon  gives  a  somewhat  analogous  case  with 
regard  to  the  word  "Pagan."  Pagus  originally  meant 
a  "fountain,"  and  by  easy  stages  the  word  and  its  suc- 
cessors came  to  designate  the  village  built  near  or  around 
a  fountain,  next  any  village,  and  finally  the  inhabitants. 
The  fountains  were  supposed   to  be   under  the  special 


L.EOTUBE   OF   PROF.   MOANAI/LY.  215 

care  of  some  goddess  or  nymph,  and  the  people  of  the 
neighborhood  were,  as  a  rule,  so  tenacious  of  their  local 
worship,  and  so  reluctant  to  adopt  Christianity,  that  the 
word  Pagani,  or  "•villagers,"  passed  through  all  the 
changes  already  detailed  in  the  case  of  the  word 
"heathen."  Gibhon  says  the  first  official  use  of  the  word 
in  the  sense  of  "unbeliever,"  is  found  in  an  edict  of  Val- 
entinian,  in  the  year  A.  D.  365,  and  from  that  time  the 
secondary  signification  of  the  word  has  been  most 
common. 

It  will  hardly  do  to  pass  unnoticed  a  class  of  words 
and  expressions  formerly  of  serious  meaning,  but  which, 
by  some  change  of  circumstances  or  ideas,  have  come  to 
be  regarded  as  having  something  of  the  ridiculous  about 
them,  and  consequently  are  no  longer  used,  save  with  a 
droll  signification.  The  word  "pate"  once  stood  in  a 
serious  sense  for  "head,"  and  is  so  used  in  the  seventh 
Psalm;  while  Wycliffe,  in  his  translation  of  the  Bible, 
uses  "sconce,"  "nowl,"  and' "noddle,"  in  the  same  way. 
"To  punch,"  "to  thump,"  "to  wag,"  and  "to  buzz,"  now 
considered  verbal  tramps,  out  at  elbows  and  down  at 
heel,  were  formerly  in  good  standing  in  religious  society, 
and  had  nothing  of  the  ridiculous  about  them.  WyclifFe 
translated  Acts  XIV,  14:  "Paul  and  Barnabas  rent 
their  clothes  and  skipped  out  among  the  people;"  while 
Miles  Coverdale  rendered  a  passage  in  Canticles:  "My 
beloved  cometh  hopping  upon  the  mountain;"  and  in 
another  place,  assured  us  that  "the  Lord  trounced  Sisera 
and  all  his  host."  Tyndale  spoke  of  a  "sight  of  angels;" 
while  the  phrases,  "through  thick  and  thin,"  from  Spen- 
ser, "cheek  by  jowl,"  from  Sylvester,  and  "hand  over 
head,'!. from  Bacon,  have  served  their  time  on  the  seri- 
ous stage  and  now  do  duty  as  clowns.  "In  doleful 
dumps,"  "in  the  wrong  box,"  "gone  to  pot,"  and  many 


216  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

other  phrases  had  formerly  nothing  of  the  ludicrous 
about  them ;  and,  with  the  examples  already  cited,  are 
illustrations  of  the  melancholy  fact  that  the  disposition 
of  the  average  man  is  to  belittle  and  drag  down  to  his 
own  level  everything  above  him.  Were  heroes  the 
rule,  this  would  not  be  so;  but  unfortunately,  in  this 
work-a-day  world,  as  Shakespeare  calls  it,  the  unheroic 
prevails  to  an  extent  that  prevents  a  full  recognition  of 
the  heroism  that  really  exists. 

The  next  curiosity  worthy  of  note,  is  the  remarka- 
ble slowness  with  which,  under  ordinary  circumstances, 
changes  in  language  are  effected.  This  is  a  point  noticed 
by  all  the  authorities.  It  matters  not  whether  the 
change  be  in  regard  to  the  orthography,  the  pronuncia- 
tion, or  the  grammatical  forms  of  the  language,  the 
principle  is  the  same,  and  the  statement  holds  good.  It 
is  usually  extremely  difficult  to  eonvince  any  one  that 
such  changes  are  going  on  during  his  own  lifetime,  but 
there  is  no  sort  of  doubt  of  the  fact.  Ten  lifetimes  will 
more  than  cover  the  five  hundred  years  between  us  and 
Chaucer,  and  what  a  remarkable  difference  between  the 
English  of  his  day  and  that  of  our  own.  Twenty  life- 
times will  take  us  back  to  Alfred  the  Great,  and  yet  his 
language  bore  a  closer  resemblance  to  German  than  to 
English,  and  all  the  change  necessary  to  bring  it  to  its 
present  condition  must  have  been  effected  during  those 
lifetimes.  The  truth  is,  nothing  is  slower,  more  insidi- 
ous, or  less  noticed  in  its  action,  than  the  change  that  is 
constantly  going  on  in  a  language.  One  generation  of 
men  passes  away;  another  generation  comes,  and  each 
man,  with  all  the  earnestness  of  conviction,  believes  that 
he  speaks  the  language  of  his  ancestors;  when,  in  fact, 
he  does  nothing  of  the  kind.  He  does  not  speak,  even, 
the  language  of  his  youth,  much  less  that  of  his  father's 


J.BfJTURK    OF   PROF.  MCANALLY.  217 

youth;  for  in  his  own  mouth,  and  without  his  knowl- 
edge, the  change  is  being  effected.  The  pronunciation 
of  words,  for  instance,  is  constantly  but  slowly  changed. 
No  one  now  says  greet  for  great,  yet  a  hundred  years 
ago  it  was  always  so  pronounced;  and  Pope  invariably 
rhymes  it  with  such  words  as  replete,  complete,  and 
their  like.  Old  men  sometimes  say  obleeged,  and  young 
men  smile  at  the  expression;  but  in  the  beginning  of 
this  century  it  was  always  so  pronounced;  while  key 
was  kay,  tea  was  tay,  Rome  was  Room,  and  the  rhym- 
ing dictionaries  classed  "bough,"  "chough,"  "plough," 
•'trough,1'  nnd  other  words  of  the  "ough"  formation  to- 
gether as  allowable  rhymes.  Gold  was  gould,  and 
Swift  is  reported  to  have  once  enquired:  "If  I  may  be 
so  bonld,  I  should  like  to  be  toidd  why  you  do  call  it 
gouldf  These  are  but  a  few  of  the  numerous  ex- 
amples that  might  be  cited;  any  one  with  a  little  indus- 
try could  easily  collect  instances  by  the  score. 

With  these  changes  in  pronunciation  have  come 
changes  in  the  grammatical  form  of  the  language, 
though,  of  course,  the  latter  are  much  more  slow  to  run 
their  course  than  the  variations  in  spelling  and  pronun- 
ciation. The  laws  that  govern  the  changes  mentioned 
are,  for  the  most  part,  past  our  finding  out.  That  there 
are  laws,  may  be  set  down  as  a  self-evident  fact,  and 
that  they  will  be  discovered  as  soon  as  the  comparative 
study  of  language  has  reached  a  point  where  a  sufficient 
number  of  illustrations  have  been  collected  to  admit  of 
the  deduction  of  general  rules,  may  also  be  considered 
beyond  all  question;  but  as  yet,  most  that  has  been  said 
on  the  subject  amounts  to  little  more  than  speculation. 
A  hint  that  may  hereafter  prove  ot  value  in  this  con- 
nection is  this:  The  general  tendency  of  language  is 
toward   abbreviation;  and,  consequently,  all  superfluous 


218  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI. 

letters,  syllables,  terminations  of  nouns,  adjectives  and 
verbs,  together  with  all  unnecessary  forms  of  expres- 
sion, are  being  gradually  dropped.  This  is  especially  to 
be  observed  in  the  case  of  silent  letters,  which,  in  not  a 
few  instances  within  the  recollection  of  living|men,  have 
disappeared  from  the  most  common  words  of  the  lan- 
guage. Home  Tooke  expresses  the  idea  very  happily 
by  saying,  "Letters,  like  soldiers,  are  apt  to  fall  off  and 
desert  in  a  long  march,"  and  the  most  extensive  research 
has  but  served  to  confirm  the  truth  of  the  statement. 
The  process  of  change  in  the  other  particulars  mention- 
ed is  very  slow,  requiring  ages  for  its  consummation, 
and  in  order  to  ascertain  the  full  extent  of  these  changes, 
the  language  must  be  compared  at  periods  centuries 
apart;  but  that  this  change  has  been  going  on  in  Eng- 
lish ever  since  the  time  of  Chaucer  is  easily  demon- 
strated. Take  for  instance,  the  substantive-adjectives  of 
our  language,  and  today  comparatively  few  of  them 
end  in  <?»,  while  formerly  this  was  the  regular  adjective 
ending:  "Steelen,"  "floweren,"  "rocken,"  "rosen," 
"stonen,"  and  hundreds  of  others  may  be  cited  as  ex- 
amples. The  tendency  to  abbreviation  is  now  leading 
to  the  substitution  of  "gold"  for  "golden,"  "silver"  for 
"silvern,"  "brass"  for  "brazen,"  and  so  on,  ad  libitum. 
En  used  to  be  the  common  ending  for  verbs,  and  ia 
"lengthen."  "strengthen,"  "broaden,"  "deepen,"  and  a 
few  more,  the  termination  is  still  retained,  but  those 
which  have  lost  the  en  are  thousands,  while  those  which 
have  retained  it  are  but  tens.  The  plural  of  nouns  was 
also  once  formed  in  en,  but  at  present  "oxen,"  "chicken," 
"kine,"  (kien,)  "brethren"  and  "children"  almost  ex- 
haust the  list.  The  writers  on  the  subject  predict,  with 
some  apparent  confidence,  that  the  apostrophe  and  letter 
j,  which  indicate  the  possessive  case,  must  go  next;  and 


LECTURE  OF    PROF.    MCANALIjY. 


319 


urge,  in  proof,  that  to  denote  possession,  the  objective 
construction  with  of  is  becoming  much  more  frequent, 
and  its  additional  clearness  gives  it  an  advantage  not  to 
be  despised. 

Illustrations  of  the  fact  that  linguistic  changes  of 
some  consequence  have  occasionally  taken  place  in  com- 
paratively brief  periods  of  time  are  furnished  by  several 
historical  circumstances  of  undoubted  authenticity.  The 
most  curious  of  these  is  probably  the  well-known  story 
of  the  "Refugee  French."  After  the  revocation  of  the 
Edict  of  Nantes  hy  Louis  XIV,  in  16S5,  large  numbers 
of  Huguenots  fled  from  their  native  country,  and  taking 
refuge  in  the  cities  of  Holland  and  England  formed 
colonies,  the  members  of  which  associated  almost  alto- 
gether with  each  other,  and  by  means  of  agents  carried 
on  the  purchase  of  material  they  needed  and  the  sale  of 
the  products  they  manufactured  in  their  special  lines  of 
trade.  They  thus,  in  many  cases,  almost  isolated  them- 
selves from  their  surroundings,  and  persisted  in  speaking 
the  French  language.  This  slate  of  things  continued 
for  two  or  three  generations,  when  it  was  discovered 
that  while  the  French  language  at  home  had  undergone 
material  change,  the  French  of  these  refugees  remained 
in  statu  quo,  with  the  exception  of  an  occasional  and  ac- 
cidental foreign  word.  Its  growth  had  ceased,  while 
the  growth  of  the  language  at  home  had  continued, 
and  when  some  of  these  refugee  people  went  home  a 
century  later,  their  pronunciation  and  grammatical  con- 
structions were  as  antiquated  as  would  be  for  us  the 
English  of  a  hundred  years  ago.  Another  fair  illustra- 
tion is  furnished  by  the  history  of  a  party  of  Germans 
from  a  minor  state  of  the  confederation,  who  settled  in 
a  mountain  valley  of  Pennsylvania  before  the  American 
Revolution,  and  during  that  war   and   the  wars  of  the 


230  UNIVERSITY    OK   MISSOURI. 

French  Directory  remained  without  intercourse  with 
their  German  friends  in  Europe.  So  remarkable  was 
the  result  of  this  comparatively  brief  isolation  that, 
when  Prince  Bernhard  of  Saxe-Weimer,  while  on  a 
tour  through  this  country  about  1825,  visited  the  settle- 
ment, though  he  found  German  still  spoken,  the  pro- 
nunciation and  dialect  were  of  a  previous  age.  It  was 
German,  hut  the  German  of  his  fathers  that  had  remain- 
ed unchanged  which  was  the  language  of  these  settlers- 

A  remarkable  instance  of  the  slowness  with  which 
a  language  undergoes  any  changes,  save  those  which 
originate  in  its  own  vitality,  is  furnished  by  the  Polish. 
Ever  since  the  partition  of  Poland  by  Russia,  Prussia 
and  Austria,  in  1764,  the  attempt  to  suppress  the  lan- 
guage* of  the  unfortunate  Poles  has  been  going  on  in 
that  portion  of  the  country  which  fell  to  the  lot  of  Rus- 
sia, and,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  every  means  has  been 
resorted  to  by  the  barbarous  conquerors  of  the  unhappy 
nation,  Polish  is  still  spoken,  and  allowing  a  small  mar- 
gin for  natural  change,  with  substantially  the  same  ac- 
cent, pronunciation  and  grammatical  forms,  as  when 
Warsaw  still  held  out  against  the  armies  of  the  three 
robber  nations. 

We  need  not,  how  ever,  go  as  far  as  Poland  to  find 
an  example  of  the  reluctance  of  a  language  to  yield  to 
foreign  pressure.  The  history  of  our  own  tongue  fur- 
nishes a  parallel  case.  The  long  reign  of  Edward  the 
Confessor,  from  1042  to  1065,  by  its  introduction  of 
French  manners  and  customs,  and  Norman  influences 
generally,  prepared  the  way  for  the  Norman  conquest; 
but  when  William  came  the  English  people  were, by  no 
means,  ready  for  the  consequences  of  his  accession.  The 
Seven  Years'  war  which  followed  the  apparent  calm, 
after  the  great  battle  of  Hastings   had   been   fought  and 


LECTURE   OF    PROF.  MCANALLY.  2?1 

lost,  completely  broke  down  the  spirit  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxons.  Their  king  had  been  killed,  their  noblemen 
were  either  murdered,  imprisoned,  or  banished;  their 
priests  and  bishops  were  forced  to  retire  from  their  liv- 
ings and  sees,  and  either  take  refuge  in  the  obscurity  of 
private  life,  or  fly  to  the  continent.  The  Norman- 
French  became  the  language  of  the  court,  of  the  camp, 
of  the  cloister,  of  the  bar,  of  the  schools,  of  the  count- 
ing rooms,  of  the  shops.  When  an  aspiring,  ambitious 
young  man  sought  promotion  in  any  walk  of  life,  his 
first  step  was  to  learn  French.  French  priests  by  the 
hunched  were  brought  over  from  the  continent,  and 
preaching  in  Anglo-Saxon  was  forbidden.  Anglo- 
Saxon  could  not  be  taught  in  the  schools,  for  the  foreign 
masters,  usually  ecclesiastics,  knew  nothing  of  it,  and 
children  were  required  to  translate  their  Latin  into 
French,  regardless  of  their  mother  tongue.  All  busi- 
ness transactions  were  carried  on  in  French,  and  if  a 
man  desired  to  avoid  being  cheated  at  every  turn,  his 
sole  protection  was  a  familiarity  with  the  language  of 
the  merchants.  In  spite,  however,  of  the  rigid  system 
of  persistent  tyranny,  which  for  three  hundred  years 
sought  to  force  an  alien  language  upon  an  entire  people, 
the  Anglo-Saxon  tongue  was  equal  to  the  emergency, 
and  doggedly  held  its  own.  It  suffered  terribly,  and 
came  out  of  the  three-century  contest  so  changed  that  it 
could  hardly  be  recognized  as  the  same  language  that 
had  entered  the  battle,  but  for  all  that,  it  survived,  and  in 
the  end  overcame  all  opposition.  The  whole  case  is 
clearly  stated  by  Professor  Earle,  late  professor  of  An- 
glo-Saxon in  the  University  of  Oxford.  "Great  and 
speedy,"  he  says,  "must  have  been  the  effect  of  the  Nor- 
man conquest  in  ruining  the  ancient  grammar.  The 
leading  men  in  the  state,  having  no  interest  in   the  ver- 


2'J2  UNIVERSITY    OK   MISSOUBJ. 

nacular,  its  cultivation  fell  immediately  into  neglect. 
The  chief  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  clergy  deposed  or  re- 
moved, who  should  now  keep  up  that  supply  of  Anglo- 
Saxon  religious  literature,  of  the  copiousness  of  which 
we  may  judge  even  in  our  day  by  the  considerable  re- 
mains that  have  outlived  hostility  and  neglect?  Now 
that  the  Saxon  land  owners  were  dispossessed,  who 
should  patronize  the  Saxon  bard,  or  welcome  the  man  of 
song  in  the  halls  of  mirth?  The  shock  of  the  conquest 
gave  a  death-blow  to  Saxon  literature.  The  English 
language  continued  to  be  spoken  by  the  masses  who 
could  speak  no  other,  and  here  and  there  a  secluded  stu- 
dent wrote  in  it;  but  its  honors  and  emoluments  were 
gone,  and  a  gloomy  period  of  depression  lay  before  the 
Saxon  language  as  before  the  Saxon  people.  The  in- 
flection system  could  not  live  through  this  trying  period. 
Just  as  we  accumulate  superfluities  about  us  in  prosperi- 
ty, but  in  adversity  get  rid  of  them  as  incumbrances, 
and  we  like  to  travel  light  when  we  have  our  own  legs 
to  carry  us,  just  so  it  happened  to  the  English  language. 
All  the  sounding  terminations  that  made  so  handsome  a 
figure  in  Saxon  courts,  superfluous  as  bells  on  idle 
horses,  were  laid  aside  when  the  nation  had  lost  its  own 
political  life  and  its  pride  of  nationality,  and  had  received  ' 
leaders  and  teachers  who  spoke  a  strange  tongue." 

Before  leaving  this  branch  of  the  subject,  it  is  note- 
worthv  that  one  of  the  most  potent  agencies  in  the  in- 
jury of  Anglo-Saxon  was  the  system  of  abbreviation 
adopted  by  the  Normans  when  they  were  forced  to  use 
it,  in  their  intercourse  with  their  new  serfs.  The  niceties 
of  the  language  were  utterly  disregarded,  and  every- 
thing superfluous  in  speech  and  expression  was  ruthless- 
ly cut  away.  The  grammar  suffered,  as  also  did  the 
vocabulary,  so    much   so   that  of  some  classes  of  words 


LiECTDBB   OK    PKOK.    MCANAIJA'.  228 

not  a  single  representative  survives.  In  regard  to  this 
general  subject,  the  authorities  have  always  been  divided 
as  to  the  question  whether  the  English  language  gained 
or  lost  by  the  admixture  of  Norman.  When  doctors 
disagree  with  as  much  vim  as  in  this  case,  the  expression 
of  an  opinion  is  a  delicate  matter,  but  a  careful  examina- 
tion of  the  evidence  on  both  sides  will  probably-  satisfy 
an  unprejudiced  mind,  that  the  loss  is  fully  balanced  by 
the  gain.  Inflections  were  done  away  with,  but  philolo- 
gists are  gradually  coming  to  the  conclusion  that  this 
loss  is  for  the  better,  while  the  vast  influx  of  new  words 
and  forms  of  expression  has  certainly  rendered  the  lan- 
guage a  service  which  cannot  be  too  highly  estimated. 

The  next  point  of  curious  interest  with  regard  to 
language,  is  the  manner  in  which  linguistic  changes  of 
more  gradual  character  than  those  already  mentioned 
are  effected.  There  appears  to  be  with  words,  as  with 
animals,  a  constant  process  of  what  Darwin  would  call 
"natm-al  selection,"  going  on,  by  which  the  weaker  are 
driven  to  the  wall  and  die,  and  the  stronger  part  the 
property  of  their  late  companions  among  themselves, 
and  thus  still  more  augment  their  strength.  The  laws 
which  govern  changes  of  this  kind  are  inscrutible,  but 
the  changes,  nevertheless,  take  place,  and  speak  for 
themselves.  With  regard  to  losses  of  this  kind,  Trench 
is  very  explicit.  He  says:  "We  hardly  realize  to  our- 
selves the  immense  losses  which  we  have  suffered,  till 
we  take  the  extinct  words  of  some  single  formation,  and 
seek  to  make  as  complete  a  list  of  these  as  possible. 
Then,  indeed,  we  perceive  that  they  are  thick  as  leaves 
in  Vallambrosa."  This  point  he  proceeds  to  illustrate 
by  giving  a  long  list  of  words  ending  in  full  which 
have  at  different  times  been  used  by  the  best  English 
writers  and  speakers,  but  are  now  pronounced  obsolete. 


*224  UNIVKRS1TY    OP    MISSOURI. 

It  is,  of  course,  out  of  the  question  to  make  extended 
reference  to  a  list  of  this  kind,  or  to  extract  from  it;  but 
the  most  casual  examination  of  the  work  of  Trench  in 
this  department,  will  satisfy  any  one  of  the  immense  ap- 
parent loss  that  the  English  has,  in  this  respect,  sus- 
tained. The  loss  may  be  only  apparent,  buj  it  is  none 
the  less  conspicuous.  In  regard  to  this  "natural  selec- 
tion" of  words,  Dvvight,  in  his  "Modern  Philology," 
says:  "Great,  silent,  yet  determinative  laws  of  criti- 
cism, and  so,  of  general  acceptance  or  condemnation, 
are  ever  at  work  upon  words,  deciding  their  position 
among  mankind  at  large,  as  if  before  a  court  without 
any  appeal.  Their  action  is  certain,  though  indefinable 
to  our  vision,  like  the  seemingly  blind  laws  of  the 
weather;  which  yet'  however  multiplied  in  their  sources 
or  subtle  in  their  action,  rule  infallably,  not  only  the 
questions  of  human  labor  and  of  human  harvests,  but 
also,  to  a  great  extent,  those  of  human  health,  power 
and  enjoyment.'1 

Thus  does  D  wight  look  at  the  matter;  but  it  may 
be  observed  that  since  he  wrote,  the  laws  of  the  weather 
have,  one  by  one,  been  slowly  yet  surely  deduced  from 
millions  of  observations  made  in  every  part  of  the  world 
by  thousands  of  skilled  scientific  men.  Thus,  in  time, 
we  may  expect  that  the  laws  in  obedience  to  which  lan- 
guage changes,  shall  be  discovered  and  laid  down  with 
as  much  accuracy.  Language  does  not  change  by 
chance  or  haphazard.  No  matter  how  far-caprice  may 
influence  the  actions  of  an  individual,  it  cannot  control 
the  movements  of  a  community  or  nation  in  matters  in- 
volving the  habits  of  a  lifetime.  Occasionally  the  change 
may  be  easily  accounted  for,  as  in  the  cases  already 
given;  at  other  times  the  reason  lies  beyond  our  reach, 
because  we  have  not  yet  sufficient  data  to  justify   the  de- 


L.ECTURB    OF   PROF.  MCANAtibY.  225 

duction  of  any  principle.    Once  in  a  while  the  extinction 
of  an  art,  science,  or  amusement,  has  caused  the  death  of 
most  or  all  the  words  and  terms  connected  with  it.    The 
practice  of  bear-baiting,   as  a  popular  sport,   has  long 
since  gone  out  of  fashion,  and,  as  a  consequence,  scores 
of  terms  used  by  the  bear-fighters  have  dropped  from 
the  language  and  disappeared.     Hawking,  as   an  amuse- 
ment, was  abandoned  long  ago,  and  a  book  of  "Hawking 
Instructions,"  or  rules  for  taming  and  controlling  falcons 
is  consequently  untranslatable;  so  many  of  the  expres- 
sions have  passed  entirely  from  use  that  no  signification 
whatever  can  be  attached  to  them.     These  are  but  two 
out   of   many    illustrations    that    might  be    cited.     The 
common-sense  view  of  the  whole  matter  seems  to  be, 
that  when  men  do  not  need  a  word  they  cease  to  use  it, 
and  the  word  dies.     This  is  illustrated  in  the  cases  just 
given.     When  hawking   no   longer   existed   as  a  sport, 
men  had  no  need  of  designating  by  words  things  which 
had  no   existence,  and  therefore  the  names  themselves 
became  extinct  and  passed   from  the  vocabulary  of  the 
language.     What  proportion  of  words   first   used  in  a 
technical,  and  afterwards  in  a  more  general  or  secondary 
sense,  survived  the  death  of  their  accompanying  objects, 
we  have,  of  course,  no  means  of  knowing,  but  the  num- 
ber must  be  by  no  means  small.     A.  single  illustration 
may  suffice.     There  is,  probably,  no  belief  so   utterly 
dead  as  that  in  the  so-called  science  of  astrology;  but 
"mercurial,"   and  "jovial,"  and   "saturine,"  and  "moon- 
struck," still  offer  themselves  for  our  use  in  describing 
human   character,    although   their   primary  signification 
has  been  entirely  lost;  while  "influence,"  and  "disaster," 
"ill-starred,"  and  "ascendancy,"  are  but  a  few  out  of  the 
many  that  survive  the  would-be  science  they  once  helped 
to  explain.     Why   whole  classes  of  adjectives,  such  as 


226  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

those  mfuly  already  mentioned,  and  others  in  some,  why 
duplicate  words  and  entire  families  of  compounds  should 
yield  to  the  law  of  nature  and  die,  when  there  appears 
no  reason  that  they  should  not  last  as  long  as  their 
neighbors,  is  not  yet  determined;  but  certain  it  is,  that 
in  several  of  these  quarters  the  English  language  wast 
formerly  rich,  and  is  now  comparatively  poor.  "Might- 
lul"  is  as  expressive  as  word  as  "mighty;"  "v/ordful,"  as 
"wordy;"  "senseful,"  as  "sensible;"  yet  in  each  case  the 
one  has  been  taken,  the  other  left,  and  the  tendency  con- 
stantly is  to  increase  the  use,  even  of  such  words  as 
"wrathy,"  in  preference  to  the  older — "wrathful."  Men 
speak  now  of  a  "miser,"  but,  according  to  Trench,  he 
used  also  to  be  called  a  "gripe,"  a  "huddle,"  a  "smudge," 
a  "clinch,"  a  "micher,"  a  "pinchpenny,"  a  "pennyfather," 
a  "nipcheese,"  a  "nipscreed,"  a  "nipfarthing,"  a  "clutch- 
fast,"  and  a  "kumbix,"  besides  other  terms  not  sulTerable 
by  ears  polite.  The  cause  of  the  extinction  of  these 
names  is  certainly  not  to  be  found  in  any  diminution  of 
the  race  of  misers,  and  though  we  at  present  may  be  at 
a  loss  in  what  direction  to  look  for  a  reason,  we  may 
feel  very  certain  that  there  is  one,  and  that  it  will  be 
discovered. 

In  very  marked  contrast  to  this  diminution  in  the 
number  of  words  of  certain  classes  in  the  English  lan- 
guage, is  the  extraordinary  power  that  English  has 
manifested  upon  occasion  of  taking  in  words  at  whole- 
sale. Half  a  dozen  times  in  the  history  of  our  language 
it  has  shown  the  appetite  of  an  ostrich,  and  to  its  credit 
be  it  said,  it  has  succeeded  in  digesting  everything  it  has 
managed  to  swallow.  The  century  beginning  with  the 
accession  of  Elizabeth,  in  1559,  may  be  mentioned  as 
one  period  of  remarkable  growth.  The  spirit jof  enter- 
prise that  then  characterized  the   English    nation  as  a 


LECTURE   OB'    PROF.  MCANALLY.  227 

whole,  and  the  sudden  rise  of  the  British  naval  power, 
together  with  the  acknowledged  pre  eminence  of  the 
English  fighting  qualities,  as  illustrated  in  the  defeat  of 
the  Armada  in  15SS,  combined  to  put  England  to  the 
front  of  European  nations,  and  the  discovery  of  Ameri- 
ca and  consequent  explorations,  furnished  employment 
for  the  boldest  spirits.  The  labors  of  the  hardy  Eng- 
lishmen of  that  day,  whose  names  are  to  be  found  in 
every  school  history,  introduced  a  vast  number  of  new 
words  into  the  language,  by  the  introduction  of  new  ob- 
jects and  ideas  into  the  English  life,  and  this  increase 
v  as  assisted  by  the  English  renaissance,  which  did  as 
much  from  another  point  of  view  as  did  the  foreign  ex- 
plorations and  discoveries.  In  short,  to  conclude  this 
branch  of  the  subject,  it  may  be  affirmed  that  the  intro- 
duction of  an  art  or  science,  the  establishment  of  a  new 
manufacture,  the  inauguration  of  a  novel  industry,  the 
publication  of  a  new  invention,  and  even  a  new  way  of 
doing  an  old  thing,  are  sure  to  be  attended  by  either  the 
invention  or  introduction  of  new  words.  The  terminol- 
ogy of  every  science  is  peculiar  to  itself,  and  in  the  fact 
that  so  many  of  the  most  common  articles  of  to-day  are 
things  of  recent  discovery  or  invention,  may,  perhaps, 
be  found  an  explanation  of  the  remarkable  growth  of 
our  language  during  the  last  hundred  years.  The  use 
of  labor-saving  machines,  the  invention  of  the  steam- 
engine,  the  application  of  electricity  to  practical  use,  and 
a  hundred  other  adaptations  of  the  forces  of  nature  to 
the  wants  of  men,  have  each  called  into  being  a  host  of 
words  and  expressions  suitably  describing  the  novelties 
thus  presented  to  the  human  mind.  As  a  last  hint  in 
this  direction,  it  may  be  observed  that  on  some  occasions 
words  are  literally  forced  upon  the  people,  and  are  used, 
not  because  they  are  the  best  words,  but  by  dint  of  their 


228  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

constant  repetition.  An  example  of  this  is  seen  in  cer- 
tain words  now  creeping  into  public  favor,  such  as 
"suicided,"  "burglarized,"  and  the  like.  The  telegraph 
companies,  by  charging  by  the  word  for  transmission, 
have  caused  such  abreviations  as  these  in  place  of  the 
usual  phrases:  "Committed  suicide,"  or  "committed 
burglary."  The  only  conceivable  excuse  for  these  and 
such  as  these,  is  found  in  the  fact  that  they  cost  just  half 
as  much  as  their  synonyms,  but  being  just  as  expressive, 
there  is  little  doubt  that  they  will  ultimately  be  admitted 
into  the  language  family  as  legitimate  children.  The 
men  of  learning  may  protest  in  the  future,  as  they  have 
protested  in  the  past;  the  scholars  may  denounce,  the 
universities  may  condemn,  and  the  lexicographers  may 
omit,  but  the  people  will  do  as  they  have  done,  and  use 
such  words  as  express  their  ideas  with  most  brevity  and 
accuracy.  In  the  end,  such  words,  no  matter  how  slangy 
they  may  at  first  be  deemed,  will  be  received  and  used 
by  everybody.  There  was  a  long  controversy  over  the 
word  its,  the  possessive  of  the  neuter  pronoun,  and  for 
a  great  while  the  best  writers  and  speakers  avoided  its 
use.  Bacon  and  Spencer  never  used  it,  and  it  occurs  very 
seldom  in  Milton,  Shakespeare,  and  the  King  James 
translation  of  our  English  Bible,  published  in  1611;  but 
though  the  first  recorded  use  of  the  word  was  by  Florio 
in  1598,  in  much  less  than  a  century  writers  were  find- 
ing fault  with  their  opponents  for  employing  "his"  or 
"her"  in  place  of  "its."  The  contest  had,  therefore, 
been  previously  decided  in  favor  of  "its,"  a  result  certain 
to  happen  in  every  case  when  a  new  word  supplies  a 
real  want  in  a  language.  In  truth,  as  a  distinguished 
writer  on  this  subject  has  already  said,  the  English  lan- 
guage is  like  the  English  institutions,  "Just  as  the  char- 
acter   of  our    governmental    regulations   is   such   that 


IjEctukk  of  prof,  mcanaluy.  229 

strangers  and  refugees  from  every  land  under  heaven 
can  come  and  make  their  home  with  us,  and  forget  that 
they  are  strangers,  so  foreign  words,  singly  or  in  crowds, 
may  come  and  be  received,  and  become  acclimated,  and 
the  next  generation  will  be  utterly  oblivious  of  the  fact 
that  they  were  ever  other  than  orthodox  English." 

There  is  another  branch  of  no  small  interest  to  the 
curious,  and  well  deserving  careful  enquiry.  The  do- 
main of  proper  names  is  so  extensive  and  so  suggestive 
that  to  do  it  justice  would  require  volumes  rather  than 
paragraphs.  It  may  be  stated  that,  as  a  rule,  aboriginal 
proper  names  are  never  devoid  of  meaning,  though  a 
change  of  circumstances  has  often  caused  the  meaning  to 
be  lost.  Dr.  Isaac  Taylor  says:  "In  many  cases  the 
original  import  of  local  names  has  faded  away,  or  has 
become  disguised  in  the  lapse  of  ages;  nevertheless,  the 
primeval  meaning  may  be  recoverable,  and  whenever 
it  is  recovered,  we  have  gained  a  symbol  that  may 
prove  itself  full-fraught  with  instruction,  for  it  may  in- 
dicate emigrations,  immigrations,  the  commingling  of 
races  by  war  and  conquest,  or  by  the  peaceful  processes 
of  commerce;  the  name  of  a  district  or  town  may  speak 
to  us  of  events  which  written  history  has  failed  to  com- 
memorate. A  local  name  may  often  be  adduced  as  evi- 
dence determinative  of  controversies  that  otherwise 
could  never  be  brought  to  a  conclusion.  The  names  of 
places  are  conservative  of  the  more  archaic  forms  of  a 
living  language,  and  they  often  embalm  for  us  the  guise 
and  fashion  of  speech  in  eras  the  most  remote.  These 
topographical  words,  which  float  upon  the  parlance  of 
successive  generations  of  men,  are  subject  in  their  course 
to  less  phonetic  abrasion  than  the  other  elem>" 
people's  speech.  What  has  been  afP'- 
nist  as  to  the  flora  of  limited  d: 


230  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

little  abatement,  concerning  local  names — that  they  sur- 
vive the  catastrophes  which  overthrow  empires,  and  that 
they  outlive  devastations  which  are  fatal  to  everything 
beside.  Invading  hosts  may  trample  down  and  extir- 
pate whatever  grows  on  a  soil,  excepting  only  its  wild 
flowers,  and  the  names  of  those  sites  where  man  has 
found  a  home.  Seldom  is  a  people  utterly  exterminated; 
for  the  proud  conqueror  leaves  the  poor  of  the  hind  to 
till  the  globe  anew,  and  these  enslaved  outcasts,  though 
they  may  hand  down  no  memory  of  the  splendid  deeds 
of  the  nation's  heroes,  yet  retain  a  most  tenacious  recol- 
lection of  the  names  of  the  hamlets  which  their  own 
ignoble  progenitors  inhabited,  and  near  which  their 
fathers  were  interred.'1 

The  individual  who  endeavors  to  gain  an  idea  of 
the  curious  facts  ascertainable  by  a  study  of  local  names, 
cannot  do  better  than  follow  the  footsteps  of  Dr.  Isaac 
Taylor,  whose  admirable  work  on  this  subject  has  never 
been  surpassed,  either  in  extent  of  research  or  accuracy 
of  detail.  With  regard  to  the  tenacity  with  which  local 
names  are  retained,  he  says:  "There  are  many  nations 
which  have  left  no  written  records,  and  whose  history 
would  be  a  blank  volume,  were  it  not  that  in  the  places 
where  they  have  sojourned  they  have  left  traces  of  their 
migrations  sufficient  to  enable  us  to  reconstruct  the  main 
outline  of  their  history.  The  hills,  the  valleys,  and  the 
rivers  are,  in  fact,  the  onl}'  writing  tablets  on  which  un- 
lettered nations  have  been  able  to  inscribe  their  annals, 
and  the  great  advances  in  ethnological  knowledge  which 
have  recently  taken  place  are  largely  due  to  the  deciph- 
erment of  the  obscure  and  time-worn  records  thus  con- 

^1  in  local  names.  From  them  we  may  also  decipher 

•""■  a  bearing  on  national  movements  and  the 

'Nation.     With  regard,  for  exam- 


LECTURE   OF   PROF.   MCANALLY.  231 

pie,  to  Saxon  England,  we  may,  from  local  names  draw 
many  inferences  as  to  the  amount  of  cultivated  land,  the 
state  of  agriculture,  the  progress  of  the  arts  of  construc- 
tion, and  even  as  to  the  density  of  the  population  and  its 
relative  distribution.  In  the  same  records  we  may  dis- 
cover vestiges  of  local  franchises  and  privileges,  and 
may  investigate  certain  social  differences  which  must 
have  characterized  the  districts  settled  respectively  by 
the  Saxons  and  the  Danes;  may  collect  relics  of  the 
heathenism  of  our  fathers,  and  illustrate  the  process  by 
which  it  was  gradually  effaced  through  the  efforts  of 
Christian  teachers."  But  names  may  do  even  more  than 
this.  In  another  place  Taylor  continues:  "Local  ap- 
pellations may  either  give  aid  to  the  philologist,  when 
the  aspect  of  country  remains  the  same,  or,  on  the  other 
hand,  where  the  face  of  nature  has  undergone  extensive 
changes;  where  there  were  forests  that  have  been 
cleared,  marshes  that  have  been  drained,  coast  lines  that 
have  been  advanced  seaward,  rivers  that  have  extended 
their  deltas  or  formed  new  channels,  estuaries  that  have 
been  converted  into  alluvial  soil,  lakes  that  have  been 
silted  up,  islands  that  have  become  gentle  inland  slopes, 
surrounded  by  fertile  corn  flats — in  all  such  cases  these 
pertinacious  names  have  a  geological  significance;  they 
come  into  use  as  a  record  of  a  class  of  events  as  to 
which,  for  the  most  part,  written  history  is  silent.  In 
this  manner  the  names  of  places  become  available  as  the 
beacon-lights  of  geological  history.  In  truth,  there  are 
instances  in  which  local  names,  conserved  in  places 
where  little  or  nothing  else  that  is  human  has  endured, 
may  be  adduced  as  evidence  of  vast  physical  mutations, 
side  by  side  with  the  most  massive  physical  vouchers  of 
the  changes  on  our  globe." 

It  will  be  seen  from   the   foregoing  liberal  extracts 


232  UNIVERSITY   OF    MISSOURI. 

that  the  study  of  local  names  is  capable  of  throwing 
light  on  geography,  history  both  political,  civil  and  mil- 
itary, archaeology,  ethnology,  philology  and  geology. 
Illustrations  of  the  manner  in  which  the  study  of  each 
is  assisted  by  a  consideration  of  the  proper  names  in- 
volved, would  be  both  lengthy  and  tiresome,  but  a  gen- 
eral glance  at  the  distribution  of  the  proper  names  of 
various  nationalities,  as  illustrating  national  movements, 
may  not  prove  altogether  unprofitable.  It  may  be  set 
down  as  preliminary,  that  whenever  the  occupation  of  a 
country  by  foreign  conquerors  was  slow  and  interrupted 
by  long  intervals  of  peace,  during  which  intercourse 
was  carried  on  between  the  two  warring  nations,  the  old 
names  of  localities  were  preserved  in  much  larger  num- 
bers, and  with  much  less  change  in  form,  than  when  the 
conquest  was  rapid  and  attended  by  the  extermination  of 
the  vanquished.  It  should  also  be  remembered  that 
when  two  nations,  the  one  barbarous  and  the  other  more 
or  less  civilized,  come  in  hostile  contact,  and  the  former 
is  overrun,  the  enlightened  nation  is  likely  to  re-name 
the  centres  of  population,  the  towns  and  cities  of  the 
conquered  territory,  while  the  native  names  of  natural 
objects,  such  as  rivers,  mountains,  and  the  like,  are  al- 
most certain  to  be  adopted  by  the  conquerors.  When 
a  barbarous  nation  strives  with  and  overcomes  one  par- 
tially civilized,  the  points  of  strategic  importance  in  a 
military  view  will  be  named  by  the  barbarians,  while 
the  other  names  will  be  very  slow  to  change.  So  much 
for  explanation;  now  for  illustration.  England  was  first 
inhabited  by  a  nation  of  Celts.  The  Romans  invaded 
and  conquered  the  island,  and  during  an  occupation  of 
five  centuries  founded  and  named  many  cities,  construct- 
ed roads,  and  other  works  of  public  utility.  The  bulk 
of   the    nomenclature,    therefore,    in    England    became 


LECTURE  OF   PROF.    MCANALLY.  233 

Latin;  but  in  spite  of  so  long  an  occupation,  here  and 
there  throughout  England  proper  there  still  remain 
names  of  mountains  and  rivers  which  can  claim  a  Celtic 
origin.  Wales  and  the  Scotch  Highlands  were  never 
conquered  by  the  Romans,  and  consequently,  to  this  day, 
the  local  names  in  these  two  countries  are  almost  wholly 
Celtic,  while  the  town  names  of  England,  in  spite  of  all 
the  changes  the  country  has  undergone,  retain  not  a  few 
traces  of  their  Latin  origin.  The  Anglo-Saxons,  as  a 
race,  succeeded  the  Romans,  and  the  curious  fact  is  ob- 
servable, that  while  many  of  the  larger  cities  kept  the 
names  given  them  by  the  Romans,  the  villages,  where 
the  Saxons  mainly  established  themselves,  took  on  new 
appellations,  Anglo-Saxon  in  character.  But  for  hun- 
dreds of  years  the  Saxons  were  subjected  to  the  periodi- 
cal inroads  of  the  Danes,  and  these  free-booters  of  the 
sea,  coming  in  vessels,  were  forced  to  frequent  portions 
of  the  coast  where  the  harbors  were  good,  and  in  their 
inland  forays,  to  travel  up  rivers  for  the  sake  of  the  as- 
sistance and  protection  afforded  by  their  attendant  ships, 
The  theory,  therefore,  would  be,  that  the  names  in  such 
localities  should  be  Danish ;  and  this  theory  we  find  sub- 
stantiated by  the  facts  in  the  case.  The  Norman  con- 
quest introduced  feudalism  into  England,  with  all  the 
concomitants  of  chivalry,  knights,  and  castles,  and  we 
would,  therefore,  expect  to  find  that  the  sites  of  the  in- 
land castles  and  fortresses  constructed  for  three  hundred 
years  after  1066,  would  bear  Norm  an- French  names. 
This  is  exactly  the  state  of  fact  in  the  case,  and  hun- 
dreds, if  not  thousands,  of  illustrations  might  be  cited  to 
demonstrate  the  truth  of  the  statement.  The  same  gen- 
eral condition  of  things  exists  under  similar  circum- 
stances in  the  south  of  Europe.  Wherever  the  Saracens 
or  Moors,  as   they   were  called,  went,  they  stayed  and 


234  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOUBI. 

called  the  cities  they  occupied  or  built  after  their  own 
pleasure.  Accordingly,  we  find  that  in  Spain,  the  por- 
tions of  the  country  longest  inhabited  by  the  Moors, 
possess  most  Arabian  names  of  places;  and  in  the  south 
of  Spain,  where  the  Moors  made  their  last  stand,  there 
is  hardly  a  genuine  Spanish  name  to  be  found.  The 
universality  of  the  rule  is  so  well  admitted,  however, 
that  illustration  is  almost  unnecessary.  The  point  in 
question  is  so  remarkably  well  set  forth  by  the  history 
and  local  names  of  our  own  country,  that  a  few  illustra- 
tions may  not  be  judged  inappropriate.  Everybody 
knows  how  the  West  India  Islands,  Mexico,  Florida, 
and  the  most  of  South  America  were  settled  by  the 
Spanish;  how  the  Mississippi  Valley  and  the  region  of 
the  great  lakes  down  to  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  em- 
bracing a  vast  semi-circle  of  territory,  were  claimed  and 
partially  settled  by  the  French;  how  the  New  England 
colonies  were  established  by  one  class  of  Englishmen, 
Maryland  and  Virginia  by  another,  and  Pennsylvania 
by  a  third;  how  Manhattan  Island  was  settled  by  the 
Dutch;  and  how  a  solitary  Swedish  settlement  was  made 
near  New  York.  These  are  historical  facts,  demon- 
strated by  authentic  and  reliable  documents;  but  were 
all  written  history  on  the  subject  lost,  it  would  be  quite 
possible  to  trace  the  settlement  of  the  various  nations 
mentioned  by  the  local  names  still  in  daily  use.  But  we 
can  do  more  than  this.  If  we  knew  nothing  whatever 
of  the  nations  who  conquered  and  possessed  the  New 
World,  we  would  still  be  able  to  infer  a  number  of 
curious  facts.  We  might,  for  instance,  from  the  remark- 
able number  of  saint's  names  applied  to  localities  in 
Spanish  America,  legitimately  conclude  that  the  Spanish 
possessed  a  romantic  valor  born  of  chivalry,  and  a 
strongly  imaginative  religious  element  in  their  mental 


LECTUBEI    OF  PROF.  MC ANALLY.  235 

constitution,  enabling  them  to  overcome  all  obstacles  by 
the  help  of  their  guardian  saints.  The  overflowing 
gratitude  of  Columbus  to  the  Saviour,  who  had  guided 
him  through  so  many  difficulties  and  protected  him 
through  such  a  maze  of  perils,  inspired  him  to  name  the 
first  land  he  found  after  that  Savious,  and  aSan  Salva- 
dor" will  therefore  go  down  into  history  an  eternal  me- 
morial of  the  profound  piety  of  the  man,  while  such 
names  as  "La  Trinidad,"  "Vera  Cruz,"  "Santa  Cruz," 
and  hundreds  of  others  similar  in  character  remain  to 
attest  the  well  known  fact  that  other  Spanish  explorers 
were  as  pious  as  he.  We  could  also  judge  of  the  other 
extreme  of  piety  manifested  by  the  Puritan  Settlers  in 
New  England,  whose  "Salem,"  and  "Concord,"  and 
"Providence,"  remain  indubitable  witnesses  of  their 
faith.  We  might  conjecture  the  aristocratic  spirit  of  the 
Southern  colonists,  whose  "Virginia,"  and  "Jamestown," 
and  "Kings  County,"  and  "Norfolk,"  and  "Suffolk,"  and 
"Cape  Charles,"  and  "Cape  Henry,"  tell  of  a  time  when 
colonization  was  the  pet  sport  of  the  English  sovereigns. 
So,  also,  might  the  "City  of  Brotherly  Love"  be  sub- 
poenaed to  give  testimony  to  the  genuine  Quaker  spirit; 
while  the  numerous  aristocratic  or  royalist  names  in 
East  Tennessee,  such  as  "Bristol,"  "New  Market," 
"Knoxville,"  "London,"  "Loudon,"  and  others,  con- 
tribute their  mite  to  the  explanation  of  the  fact  that  the 
tories  of  Virginia  and  North  Carolina  preferred  "going 
West"  to  taking  service  in  the  American  ranks  during 
the  Revolutionary  war.  Scattered  over  the  whole  coun- 
try, however,  are  the  beautiful  Indian  names  of  rivers 
and  mountains,  the  "Missouri,"  and  the  "Mississippi," 
the  "Tennessee,"  and  the  "Alabama,"  the  "Alleghany," 
and  the  "Monongahela,"  the  "Ohio,"  the  "Nolichuckee," 
the    "Chattahoochee,"    the     "Chattanooga,"     and     the 


236  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

"Apalachicola,'''  all  tell  their  story,  and  refer  us  to  a 
time  when,  step  by  step,  slowly  and  unwillingly,  some- 
times peaceably  and  sometimes  by  force,  the  Indians  re- 
tired before  the  axe  and  the  rifle,  but  tarried  long  enough 
to  teach  the  white  man  the  names  of  the  objects  most 
prominent  in  the  physical  constitution  of  the  country. 

In  regard  to  the  geological  significance  of  proper 
names,  it  might  at  first  seem  that  nothing  is  more  endur- 
ing than  "the  everlasting  hills,  the  vales  in  quietness  be- 
tween, and  old  ocean's  gray  and  melancholy  waste,"  but 
beyond  all  question,  the  language  of  man,  in  one  form 
or  another,  has  shown  itself  even  more  changeless  than 
the  face  *of  nature,  and  strange  as  it  may  appear,  the 
geological  changes  of  given  districts  may  often  be  eluci- 
dated by  a  reference  to  the  names  of  localities  in  those 
districts.  One  or  two  illustrations  must  suffice.  Taylor 
says  that  there  is  no  sort  of  doubt  that  the  whole  valley 
of  the  Thames  was  once  an  estuary,  which,  in  the  last 
thousand  years,  has  silted  up;  and  this  fact  is  beautifully 
demonstrated  by  the  name  endings  of  almost  every  city 
in  the  Valley.  Ea  or  ey  is  a  Saxon  termination  signify- 
ing island;  and  Putney,  and  Osney,  and  Moulsey,  and 
Whitney,  and  many  others,  are  cited  as  showing  that 
the  towns  so  designated  formerly  occupied  island  sites. 
The  island  of  Thanet,  where  the  Angles  and  Saxons 
first  landed,  is  now  joined  to  the  mainland  by  broad  pas- 
tures, while  the  harbor,  which  formerly  sheltered  Roman 
galleys,  is  now  converted  into  beautiful  farms.  A  better 
illustration  may  be  found  in  the  North  of  Italy.  The 
whole  plain  of  the  Po  is  rising  with  considerable  rapid- 
ity, so  that  at  Modena,  the  ruins  of  the  Roman  city 
which  occupied  that  site  twelve  hundred  years  ago  are 
now  found  forty  feet  below  the  present  surface.  Ra- 
retina  two  thousand  years  ago  was  a  seaport;  it  is  now 


LECTURE  OF   PROF.    MCANALLY.  237 

two  miles  inland;  Adria,  which,  two  hundred  years  be- 
fore Christ,  was  the  chief  port  of  the  Adriatic,  and  gave 
its  name  to  the  sea,  now  stands  twenty  miles  from  the 
coast.  Other  cases,  illustrating  the  longevity  of  names, 
may  be  cited.  The  "New  Forest,"  established  by  Wil- 
liam the  Conqueror  for  the  benefit  of  his  game,  still 
claims  the  title,  though  an  oak  here  and  there  is  the  sole 
representative  of  the  former  dense  woods.  The  "Black 
Forest"  of  Argyle  has  now  nothing  of  the  forest  but 
the  name,  while  such  local  names  as  "Beverly,"  "Bever- 
stone,"  and  "Bevercoates,"'  led  philologists  to  suspect, 
before  geologists  ascertained,  that  the  beaver  was  once 
as  common  in  England  as  the  deer. 

In  a  smaller  way,  an  illustration  of  the  manner  in 
which  names  continue  to  be  used  after  all  their  signifi- 
cance is  lost  or  has  been  forgotten,  is  seen  in  the  name 
of  the  now  celebrated  "Gramercy  Square,"  in  New 
York  city.  For  a  long  time  this  name  was  supposed  to 
be  of  French  origin,  and  nobody  knew  what  it  did 
mean,  until,  not  long  ago,  some  antiquarian,  delving 
among  the  city  archives,  unearthed  an  old  Dutch  chart, 
and  where  this  "Gramercy  Square"  is  now  situated, 
there  was  formerly  a  long,  irregular  pond,  called  by  the 
honest  Hollanders  Der  Kromme  Zee — the  crooked  sea 
— and  the  whole  difficulty  vanished.  Opposite  St. 
Louis,  Mo.,  there  was  formerly  an  island  known  as 
"Bloody  Island,"  from  the  number  of  duels  fought 
there.  It  has  for  many  years  been  a  part  of  the  Illinois 
mainland,  but  it  is  "Bloody  Island"  still,  and  likely  to  re- 
main so.  Near  the  southern  portion  of  the  same  city, 
there  was  once  an  island  in  the  Mississippi  called  "Dun- 
can's Island."  For  nearly  twenty  years  it  has  been  a 
part  of  the  Missouri  shore,  and  men  live  over  what  was 
once  the  bed  of  the  stream;  but  the  limits  of  "Duncan's 


238  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI. 

Island"  are  still  as  strictly  defined  as  when  the  Father  of 
Waters  surrounded  it  on  every  side. 

An  attempt  has  thus  been  made  to  impart  some  idea 
of  the  meaning  wrapped  up  in  the  husks  of  the  English 
language.  A  brief  recapitulation  of  the  principal  points 
must  now  answer  for  a  conclusion.  Language  in  gen- 
eral is  exceeding  slow  to  change,  but  under  some  cir- 
cumstances is  capable  of  swallowing,  digesting  and  as- 
similating anything  that  may  be  offered.  It  has  been 
shown  that  language  is  an  index  to  character  so  infalli- 
ble, that  the  human  countenance  itself,  with  all  its  variety 
and  beauty  of  change,  is  not  more  sure.  It  has  been 
shown  that  there  is  poetry  in  words  as  well  as  in  stones, 
brooks  and  flowers;  and  morality  in  nouns  and  adjec- 
tives as  well  as  in  men  and  women.  It  may  be  consid- 
ered settled  that  the  destruction  of  a  national  language 
is  an  impossibility,  and  that  even  the  proudest  nations 
of  conquerors  are  forced  to  enrich  their  vocabulary  with 
the  language  of  their  slaves.  The  "natural  selection" 
of  words  has  been  touched,  and  the  fact  elicited,  that 
one  word  dies  and  another  lives;  not  by  chance,  but  in 
obedience  to  laws  as  yet  little  understood.  History  has 
demonstrated  that  a  name  is  more  enduring  than  a  mon- 
ument; that  the  former  will  be  remembered  when  the 
latter  has  crumbled  to  powder;  that  a  local  appellation 
will  outlive  a  mountain,  and  will  be  on  the  tongues  of 
men  when  the  valley  has  become  exahed;  and  that  the 
language  of  men,  changeless,  yet  ever  changing,  identi- 
cal, yet  never  at  any  two  periods  the  same,  like  the  river 
in  Horace,  flows  on,  and  will  so  flow  on  forever. 


ARNOLD  OF  RUGBY. 


By  Miss  Grace  C.  Bibb,  Professor  of  Pedagogics 

and   Dean    of    the    Normal    Faculty    of    the 

University  of  the  State  of  Missouri. 

"All    history"   says    Emerson   is   a    record    of    the 

power   of  minorities,  and   of  minorities  of  one.     Again, 

"The   measure  of  greatness  shall  be  usefulness  in  the 

highest   sense — greatness   consisting  in  truth,  reverence 

and  good  will." 

Tried  by  this  test,  Arnold  was  preeminently  great. 
Born  in  the  true  Apostolic  succession  he  was  to  all  with- 
in the  wide  sphere  of  his  influence  a  minister  of  strength 
and  of  comfort,  of  courage  and  of  consolation.  Gov- 
erned by  motives  so  lofty  as  to  be  frequently  misunder- 
stood, he  was  yet  a'man  of  strong  practical  good  sense 
and  rather  a  worker  than  a  theorist  about  work.  In 
some  points,  it  is  probable,  that  he  would  be  set  down 
by  the  latitudinarianism  of  to-day  as  intolerant,  but  if  he 
were  intolerant  it  was  of  that  which  he  believed  to  be 
wrong,  and  from'the  same  spirit  in  which  the  martyrs 
of  old  suffered  for  their  convictions.  There  was  in  him 
a  gravity  that  approached  sternness  and  a  sense  of  justice 
that  blazed,  sometimes,  into  indignation,  yet  withal  a 
tenderness  which  through  all  anxieties  and  cares  gave  to 
his  life  freshness  and  to  his  heart  power  to  cherish  all 
holy  affections  and  sweet  charities,  all  pure  aspirations. 
Thomas  Arnold,  the  great  head  master  of  Rugby, 


240  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI. 

the  reformer  we  may  almost  say,  of  education  in  Eng- 
land, the  typical  teacher,  was  born  in  the  Isle  of  Wight, 
June  13th,  1795.  His  father  died  suddenly  before  the 
boy  had  completed  his  sixth  year,  perishing  of  a  disease 
of  the  heart  which  was  unfortunately  inherited  by  the 
son,  whose  life,  in  the  early  maturity  of  his  manhood 
and  in  the  midst  of  a  happy  and  most  beneficent  career, 
it  was  destined  to  destroy. 

His  biographer  tells  us  that  as  a  young  child  Arnold 
was  under  the  instruction  of  his  aunt,  Miss  Delafield,  a 
a  lady  of  wise  judgment,  affectionate  feeling  and  strong 
intellect,  but  that,  when  still  a  little  fellow  of  perhaps 
eight  or  nine,  he  was  sent  to  Warminster  School  and 
four  years  later  to  Winchester,  most  celebrated  for  its 
historical  associations.  This  school  owes  its  foundation 
to  William  of  Wykeham  and  perhaps  to  a  taunt.  We 
are  told  that  Wykeham  having  been  spoken  of  for  a 
bishopric  was  derided  for  his  lack  of  scholarship — not  a 
very  astonishing  lack  in  a  man  of  his  time — and  that  he 
thereupon  made  answer  thus:  "I  am  unworthy,  but 
wherein  I  am  unworthy  myself,  that  will  I  supply  by  a 
brood  of  more  scholars  than  all  the  prelates  of  England 
ever  showed."  Bishop  of  Winchester  and  later  Lord 
Chancellor  Wykeham,  after  numerous  vicissitudes,  es- 
tablished his  College  of  St.  Mary  Winton  at  Oxford,  as 
a  little  earlier  he  had  founded  his  preparatory  college 
and  preliminary  Grammar  School  at  Winchester,  pro- 
vision being  made  for  the  education  of  seventy  boys. 

"And  still  his  seventy  faithful  boys  in  these  presumptuous  days, 
Learn  the  old   truth,  speak  the  old  words,  tread  in  the  ancient 
ways. 
***  ***  ***  *** 

Still  in  their  Sabbath  worship  they  troop  by  Wykeham's  tomb, 
Still  in  the  summer  twilight  sing  their  old  sweet  song  of  home." 


LECTURE   OF    PROF.    GRACE   C.    BIBB.  241 

Thus  sang  Sir  Roundell  Palmer,  himself  a  Win- 
chester boy,  as  quoted  in  the  work,  "The  Great  Schools- 
of  England,"  to  which  I  am  indebted  for  most  facts  con- 
cerning them. 

There  are,  indeed,  those  who  trace  the  foundation-, 
of  the  school  at  Winchester,  upon  whose  site  the  colleoe 
was  erected,  to  the  time  of  the  conversion  of  Britain  to- 
Christianity,  saying  that  here  Ethelward,  son  of  the 
great  Alfred,  received  the  rudiments  of  education,  artd: 
that  shortly  after  the  Conquest  the  school  was  well: 
known.  However  this  may  be,  its  undoubted  associa- 
tions are  most  romantic,  and  it  claims  for  its  own  many 
illustrious  names  both  civil  and  military.  Besides  Dr. 
Arnold  himself,  it  numbers  on  its  bead  roll  of  fame 
many  another  hero,  bishops  and  archbishops,  as  well  as 
poets  and  prose  writers  innumerable — Young,  Collins, 
Otway,  Somerville,  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  Sydney  Smith- 
and  many  another  worthy  of  our  literary  history. 

We  like  to  think  of  the  boy  Arnold,  with  his  prac- 
tical yet  enthusiastic  nature,  and  his  tendency  to  hero 
worship,  as  possessed  to  some  degree  of  the  freedom  of 
Winchester,  a  town  so  old  that  its  history  goes  quite 
back  into  Celtic  times,  the  capital  alike  of  the  Briton,, 
the  Roman  and  the  Norman.  Here  Alfred  held  his 
council;  here  is  still  shown  what  devout  believers  may 
accept  as  the  veritable  "Round  Table"  of  King  Arthur; 
here  Henry  II  began  "a  noble  palace."  It  was  to  Win- 
chester that  Henry  VI  journeyed  to  meet  his  Queen, 
during  this  and  other  visits,  bestowing  on  the  college 
many  valuable  gifts.  Henry  VII  too  visited  the  place, 
and  here  Henry  VIII  entertained  Charles  V.  Here 
Philip  and  Mary  were  married  and  were  received  at 
the  college.  Queen  Elizabeth,  too,  paid  the  students  a 
visit  upon  which  occasion  having  asked  one  of  the  boy? 


2  12  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOUKI. 

for  some  information  with  reference  to  the  birch,  a  rep« 
resentalion  of  which  appeared  on  the  wall  above  the 
motto  not  infrequent  in  public  schools:  '•'■Aid  disce;  aut 
disccde;  manct  sors  tcrtia  caedi"  ib  said  to  have  re- 
ceived answer  thus,  the  student  being:  fresh  from  Virsril 
and  the  woes  of  Troy :  "Infandum  Regina,  jubes  re- 
novare  dolor cm. ,"(*) 

Residence  in  a  town  like  this  whose  every  stone  had 
Its  history,  with  its  old  walls,  its  noble  cathedral,  its  cel- 
brated  schools  and  its  dignified  charities,  could  not  fail 
to  impress  deeply  a  nature  like  that  of  Arnold;  to  this 
residence  is,  doubtless,  partly  traceable  his  fondness  for 
history  and  its  lessons,  as  well  as  his  disposition  to  judge 
things  upon  their  real  merits  and  men  by  their  real 
worth  uninfluenced  by  tne  popular  verdict  in  respect  to 
either.  For  Winchester  is  a  town  where  walls  and 
streets  and  palaces  preach  eloquent  if  voiceless  sermons 
on  the  vanity  of  earthly  glory  and  the  transitoriness  of 
human  fa  ne.  Arnold's  later  attachment  to  Oxford  was 
deep  and  fervent;  his  appointment  to  the  Regins  pro- 
fessorship of  History  was  the  realization  of  the  dream 
of  his  whole  life,  and  yet  always,  with  the  fondness 
of  tenacious  memory,  his  thoughts  reverted  to  the  happy 
and  suggestive  years  of  his  Winchester  residence. 

In  his  sixteenth  year  Arnold  was  entered  at  Oxford 
his  college  being  that  of  Corpus  Christi,  which  was 
though  small  a  college  of  high  reputation.  Here  his 
mental  development  was  rapid  though  it  is  doubtful  if 
his  scholarship  could  ever,  with  justice,  be  made  the 
measure  of  his  ability.  Since  his  taste  led  him  into  the 
society  of  the  Greek  philosophers  and  historians  rather 
than  into  that  of  the  poets,  it  was  difficult  to  estimate  his 


{*)     Great  Schools  of  England, 


LECTURE   OP    PROF.   ORACE   C.    BIBB.  243 

knowledge  by  popular  standards  or  to  balance  it  with 
the  college  requirements.  His  stay  at  Corpus  Christ! 
had,  however,  a  most  salutary  influence  on  his  intellect- 
ual life  for  its  methods  were  admirable.  It  was  noted 
for  the  impartiality  of  its  examinations  and  for  the  Uni- 
versity honors  it  had  gained;  it  carefully  adapted  its 
mode  of  work  to  the  age  of  its  students  and  to  the  de- 
gree of  their  mental  development,  combining  individual 
with  class  instruction  in  such  a  way  as  to  further  most 
effectually  intellectual  growth.  It  did  not  at  once  throw 
its  students  upon  their  own  resources,  but  very  gradually 
prepared  them  to  assume,  relatively,  the  control,  of  their 
own  education  and  of  their  own  action.  The  boys, 
bright  and  active  in  intellect,  had  the  true  English 
courage  of  their  convictions  and  the  time  was  one  of  ag- 
itation in  which  they  naturally  sympathized.  Dean 
Stanley,  his  biographer  to  whose  "Life  and  Letters  of 
Arnold"  we  are  indebted  for  most  of  the  facts  of  his 
life  gives  at  length  a  letter  from  one  of  his  contempara- 
ries  which  bears  upon  his  Oxford  career;  Irom  this  let- 
ter we  may  be  permitted  to  make  the  following  extract: 
"We  might  be,  indeed,  were  somewhat  boyish  in  manner  and 
in  the  liberties  we  took  with  ench  other;  but  our  interest  in  litera- 
ture, ancient  and  modern,  and  in  all  the  stirring  matters  of  that 
stirring  time  was  not  boyish;  we  debated  the  classic  and  romantic 
question;  we  discussed  poetry  and  history,  logic  and  philosophy; 
or  we  fought  over  the  Peninsular  battles  and  the  continental  cam- 
paigns with  the  energy  of  disputants  personally  concerned  in 
them." 

In  all  these  discussions,  it  is  said,  Arnold  took  an 
active  part.  What  then  or  later  he  believed,  he  believed 
with  heart  and  soul  as  well  as  intellect;  what  seemed  to 
him  worth  argument  seemed,  therefore,  worth  defence 
against  all  attack,  or  worth  as  vigorous  urging  where 
there  was  hope  that  its  validity  might  be  acknowledged. 


t4A  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

Spite  of  his  fondness  for  history  and  of  his  devotion  to 
that  most  tyrannous  "master  of  them  that  know,"  Aris- 
totle, his  mental  attitude  was  always  aggressive.  He 
was  intolerant  of  the  existing  order  unlei-s  that  order 
were  plainly  founded  in  Divine  right.  A  fierce  demo- 
crat and  an  ardent  reformer  he  believed  himself,  doubt- 
less, as  is  the  wont  of  young  and  ardent  spirits,  a  verita- 
ble champion  to  whom  was  entrusted  the  sword  of  the 
Lord  and  of  Gideon.  The  affectionate  nature  of  the 
boy,  the  fact  that  he  argued  only  for  truth  and  that 
when  overborne  with  reasons  he  was  always  ready  to  ad- 
mit himself  vanquished  and  to  acknowledge  the  jnstice 
of  the  defeat,  tempered  the  asperity  of  conflict  and  kept 
almost  undisturbed  those  fraternal  relations  with  his  as- 
sociates out  of  which  grew  some  of  the  strongest  and 
most  lasting  attachments  of  his  life. 

I  have  said  that  Arnold,  at  this  time,  cared  little  for 
the  poets;  then  and  for  a  long  time  afterward,  he  held 
tenaciously  to  the  theoiy  that  form  in  literary  composi- 
tion is  a  matter  of  so  inconsiderable  moment  as  to  be 
unworthy  of  serious  consideration.  To  him  thought 
was  the  important,  the  only  important  thing.  His  own 
Style  during  his  earlier  years  was,  perhaps  by  reason  of 
this  theory,  exceedingly  uninteresting.  Fortunately  for 
those  of  us  who  delight  in  the  charm  which  his  elegant 
pen  has  thrown  about  the  "History  of  Rome,"  his  prac- 
tice at  least,  was  finally  very  greatly  changed.  It  is 
possible,  indeed,  that  the  beauty  of  his  later  style  may 
be  due  to  the  admiration,  which  in  despite  of  his  theory, 
he  early  manifested  for  the  picturesque  narrative  of 
Herodotus,  of  which  author  and  of  Thucydides  he  was 
very  fond.  His  Oxford  training,  if  it  gave  him  no 
special  reputation  for  profound  scholarship,  yet  served, 
admirably,  to  develop  the  originality  and  self-reliance 


LECTURE  OF  PROF.   GRACE  C.   BIBB.  245 

out  of  which,  together  with  his  stern  integrity  and  ex- 
treme conscientiousness,  his  great  influence  grew. 

Alike  as  boy  and  man  Arnold  was  delighted  by 
athletic  sports  and  vigorous  physical  exercise.  He  had, 
too,  us  a  native  of  the  Isle  ot  Wight  should  rightfully 
have  a  strong  and  enduring  love  for  the  sea.  To  his 
deep  and  passionate  fondness  for  external  nature  in  her 
various  forms  is  no  doubt  due  much  of  the  youthfulness 
of  spirit  which  throughout  a  life  not  ignorant  of  care 
and  much  disturbed  by  misconstruction  and  hostile  con- 
troversy, kept  his  mind  open  as  that  of  a  child,  to  im- 
pressions ot  beauty  and  caused  his  heart  to  throb  with 
new  emotion  at  every  instance  of  heroism  or  of  self-de- 
votion. No  human  soul,  I  imagine,  ever  more  fully 
realized  the  depth  that  is  to  be  found  in  those  well- 
known  lines  of  Wordsworth: 

Nature  never  did  betray 
The  heart  that  loved  her;  'tis  her  privilege 
Through  all  the  years  of  this  one  life,  to  lead 
From  joy  to  joy;  for  she  can  so  inform 
The  mind  that  is  within  us,  so  impress 
With  quietness  and  beauty,  and  so  feed 
With  lofty  thoughts,  that  neither  evil  tongues, 
Rash  judgments,  nor  the  sneers  of  selfish  men 
Nor  greeting  where  no  kindness  is,  nor  all 
The  dreary  intercourse  of  daily  life, 
Shall  e'er  prevail  against  us,  or  destroy 
Our  cheerful  faith  that  all  which  we  behold 
Is  mil  of  blessing." 
To  his  love  of  nature  and  to  his  fondness  for  ath- 
letic  sports   we  may  perhaps  trace   that   preeminently 
healthy   tone    whieh   was   a   characteristic   of  Arnold's 
■mind  and  out  of  which  so   much  of  his   influence  over 
boys,   undoubtedly,    grew;    this    healthy    and    vigorous 
mental  state  seems  never  to  have  been  disturbed  except 
during  a  brief   period  when    he   was   led    into   serious 


246  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI. 

doubts  on  several  points  of  religious  belief.  These 
doubts  dispelled,  his  character  settled  into  deep  and  seri- 
ous earnestness,  which  thereafter  was  its  leading  charac- 
teristic and  which  endowed  him  with  that  serenity  and 
patience  in  effort,  as  well  as  that  sympathetic  knowledge' 
of  mental  suffering,  which  gave  him  such  control  of  the 
spiritual  nature  of  those,  who,  in  after  years,  came  under 
his  wise  instruction.  The  same  friend  from  whom  I 
have  already  quoted,  says  of  his  Oxford   career: 

"At  the  commencement  a  boy,  and  at  the  close  retaining,  not 
ungracefully,  much  of  boyish  spirits,  frolic  and  simplicity;  in 
mind  vigorous,  active,  clear-sighted,  industrious,  and  daily  accum- 
ulating and  assimilating  treasures  of  knowledge,  not  adverse  to 
poetry  but  delighting  rather  in  dialectics,  philosophy  and  history, 
with  less  of  imaginative  than  reasoning  power;  in  argument,  bold 
almost  to  presumption  and  vehement,  in  temper,  easily  roused  to 
indignation,  yet  more  easily  appeased  and  entirely  free  from  bit- 
terness; fired,  indeed,  by  what  he  deemed  ungenerous  or  unjust 
to  others,  rather  than  by  any  sense  of  personal  wrong;  somewhat 
too  little  deferential  to  authority;  yet,  without  any  real  inconsis- 
tency, loving  what  was  good  or  great  in  antiquity  the  more  ar- 
dently and  reverently  because  it  was  ancient. 

"In  heart,  if  I  can  speak  with  confidence  of  any  of  the  friendi 
of  my  youth,  I  can  of  hi*,  that  it  was  devout  and  pure;  simple, 
•ineere,  affectionate  and  faithful." 

With  this  character  he  began  his  work  in  the 
world,  that  of  training  young  minds  to  wisdom  and  vir- 
tue; in  which  work  over  the  lives  of  so  many  boys,  his 
private  pupils  first,  and  afterward  the  great  school-com- 
munity of  Rugby,  over  the  very  flower  of  England's 
young  manhood,  he  exerted  an  influence  for  good  so  po- 
tent and  so  lasting.  It  is  verily  a  true  dictum  of  Carlyle 
that  "mind  grows  only  by  contact  with  living  spirit  and 
that  the  quality  of  its  growth  depends  on  the  quality  of 
the  spirit  by  which  it  is  touched." 


liKCTURE   OF   PROF.    GRACE   C.    BIBB.  247 

Leaving  Oxford  as  a  student  Arnold  yet  lingered  in 
its  classic  shades  for  four  busy  years  so  loth  was  he  to 
tear  himself  from  the  libraries;  to  these  he  devoted  long 
days  of  thoughtful  reading  which  bore  fruit  eventually 
in  his  general  literary  work  and  in  his  class  lectures;, 
during  this  time  of  study  and  reflection  he  began,  with 
some  private  pupils,  that  labor  which  .so  soon  growing 
into  a  settled  calling  demanded  his  utmost  devotion  and 
called  out  all  the  enthusiasm  of  his  enthusiastic  nature— 
the  work  indeed  which  came  to  him  as  to  one  supremely 
qualified  to  perform  it.  So,  I  think,  to  each  one  of  us 
our  life  work  would  come,  at  one  time  or  at  another, 
could  only  our  eyes  be  annointed  with  such  power  of 
vision  as  would  enable  us  to  recognize  our  deeply  dis- 
guised angel  of  benefaction. 

About  1819  Arnold  settled,  as  he  thought,  perma- 
nently, at  Laleham,  with  his  brother's  family  having 
been,  in  the  preceding  year,  ordained  as  deacon.  He 
was  married  in  1S20  to  Mary  Penrose,  whose  brother 
had  for  a  long  time  been  numbered  among  his  dearest 
friends.  Until  his  election  in  1827  to  the  head  master- 
ship of  Rugby  he  continued  at  Laleham  his  school  for 
the  preparation  of  young  men  for  admission  to  the  uni- 
versities. His  life  here  seemed  in  all  respects  happy  and 
useful,  though  it  could  not  give  scope  to  all  his  powers; 
in  his  own  development  it  seems  to  have  been  a  period 
of  transition  in  which  crudities  of  character  disappeared 
and  aims  became  definite,  the  whole  nature  maturing 
into  such  a  manhood  as  was  afterward  to  prove  the  as- 
sertion of  the  greatest  of  the  Greek  dramatists  that 

,:  Only  in  God's  garden  men  may  reap 
True  joy  and  bl<    sing." 

Arnold  had  found,  as  I  have  already  said,  while  still 
very  young  his  true  office  in  the  ministry  of  man:  for- 


248  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI. 

lunate  as  was  this  fact  for  him  it  was  doubly  fortunate 
for  his  influence  in  education;  he  was  near  enough  in 
age  to  his  pupils  to  be  able  actively  to  sympathize  with 
them  in  their  boyish  trials  as  well  as  in  their  amuse- 
ments, at  the  same  time  that  his  inherent  earnestness 
and  devotion  to  duty  together  with  the  external  respon« 
sibilities  he  had  assumed  endowed  him  with  a  wisdom 
beyond  his  years.  In  his  married  life  he  was  most  happy 
and  the  influences  of  his  home  were  always  extended  to 
the  boys  immediately  under  his  care.  Upon  this  period 
of  his  life  full  of  interest  though  it  is,  time  forbids  us 
•to  linger,  and  I  will  close  this  epoch  with  a  quotation 
from  one  of  his  own  letters  written,  I  believe,  during 
its  continuance  and  expressing  some  of  his  views  of 
the  nature  of  the  education  demanded  by  our  period  of 
civilization : 

"The  difference  between  a  useful  education  and  one  which 
does  not  affect  the  future  life,  rests  mainly  on  the  greater  or  less 
activity  with  which  it  is  communicated  to  the  pupil's  mind} 
whether  he  has  learned  to  think,  or  act,  and  gain  knowledge  bjr 
himself  or  whether  he  has  merely  followed  passively  as  long  at 
there  was  some  one  to  draw  him." 

A  gentleman  associated  with  Arnold  in  the  Lale- 
ham  school,  said  of  it: 

"Everything  about  me  I  at  once  found  to  be  most  real;  it  was 
a  place  where  a  new  comer  at  once  felt  that  a  great  and  earnest 
work  was  going  forward.  Dr.  Arnold's  great  power  as  a  private 
tutor  resided  in  this  that  he  gave  such  an  intense  earnestness  to 
life.  ***  **#  *#* 

"This  wonderful  power  of  making  all  his  pupils  respect  them* 
selves  and  of  awakening  in  them  a  consciousness  of  the  duties 
that  God  assigned  to  them  personally  and  of  the  consequent  rc» 
ward  each  should  have  of  his  labors  was  one  of  Arnold's  most 
characteristic  features  in  the  training  of  youth." 

I  give  these  long  quotations  from  the  letters  of 
Arnold  and  of  his  associates,  even  at  the  risk  of  weary- 


LECTURE   OF   PROF.   GRACE   C.    BIBB.  249 

ing  you,  because  it  is  my  purpose  to  give  you  as  com- 
plete a  picture  a6  possible  of  Arnold  the  man  both  in  his 
inner  spiritual  nature  and  in  his  external  life.  From  this 
picture  I  trust  we  may  all  learn,  in  greater  or  less  de- 
gree, wisdom,  seeing  in  it  how  all  potent  may  be  indi- 
vidual effort  and  influence,  and  realizing  more  than  ever 
before  how  true  it  is  that,  even  in  this  world,  "One  with 
God  makes  a  majority."  This,  my  main  object,  can 
often,  I  find,  best  be  subserved  by  extracts  from  the  let- 
ters contained  in  Dean  Stanley's  Life  of  Arnold,  to 
which  work  I  again  acknowledge  my  indebtedness. 

Let  me  now  digress  from  the  direct  path  into  which 
my  subject  leads,  that  I  may  recall  at  some  length  the 
nature  of  the  schools  called  in  England  "Public  Schools*' 
with  one  of  which  the  name  and  fame  of  Dr.  Arnold 
are  now  forever  identified.  He  was,  as  has  been 
intimated,  elected  head  master  of  Rugby  in  1827; 
the  choice  having  fallen  upon  him  mainly  by  rea- 
son of  a  letter,  submitted  to  the  board  having  the 
matter  in  charge  and  written  by  a  gentleman  of 
character  and  influence,  in  which  after  warmly  advo- 
cating the  choice  of  Arnold,  then  comparatively  un- 
known, he  is  said  to  have  asserted  that  such  an  election 
would  "change  the  face  of  education  in  England."  It 
was  generally  agreed  that,  in  many  important  respects, 
which  we  need  not  here  dwell  upon,  a  reform  was  most 
necessary  if  these  schools  were  to  continue  the  work  of 
training  for  the  universities,  and  indeed  for  life,  the 
youth  of  England;  therefore  Arnold  was  chosen. 

Rugby  is  one  of  the  ten  great  endowed  schools  of 
England,  popularly  known  as  public  schools;  they  are 
Eton,  Winchester,  St.  Paul's,  Merchant  Taylor's,  Char- 
ter House,  Christ's  Hospital,  Shrewsbury,  Harrow, 
Rugby  and  Westminster.     These  schools,  except  so  far 


250  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 

as  there  may  be  similarity  given  by  common  subjects  of 
instruction  bear  no  resemblance  whatever  to  the  public 
6chools  of  America.  They  are  the  training  schools  for 
Oxford  and  Cambridge  and  their  influence  is  exerted 
directly  upon  the  boys  of  the  upper  and  middle  classes* 
Each  of  them  owes  its  foundation  to  private  endowment 
and  the  large  revenues  which  most  of  them  enjoy  are  due 
in  part  to  the  natural  increase  in  the  value  of  their  grants 
of  lands  and  to  judicious  investment  of  the  original  fund,, 
which  has,  in  most  instances,  been  supplemented  by  ad- 
ditional gifts  and  bequests  of  those  specially  interested  in 
their  individual  prosperity. 

Rugby  owes  its  existence  to  the  liberality  of  Law- 
rence Sheriff  a  citizen  of  London,  who,  about  the  mid- 
dle of  the  sixteenth  century,  determined  to  found  an 
almshouse  and  a  school  in  his  native  town.  A  portion 
of  the  property  designed  for  the  futherance  of  this 
worthy  object  he  bestowed  during  his  life  time;  a  sec- 
ond portion  he  left  by  his  will,  directing  in  that  instru- 
ment that  the  school  should  be  thus  designated:  "The 
Free  Schoole  of  Lawrence  Sheriffe  of  London,  Grocer." 
"The  school-master,"  he  directed  further,  was  to  be  "a 
discreete  and  learned  man  chosen  to  teach  grammar  and 
if  it  conveniently  may  be  to  be  a  Master  of  Arts."  An 
act  of  Parliament  passed  in  1777  made  it  obligatory 
that  the  head  master  shoud  be  "a  Master  of  Arts  of 
Oxford  or  Cambridge  a  Potestant  of  the  Church  of 
England."  The  assistants  number  about  twenty  and  are 
most  of  them  appointed  by  the  head  master.  The 
6chool  is  also  entitled  to  a  chaplain  but  since  the  time  of 
Dr.  Arnold,  who  established  the  precedent,  the  chap- 
laincy has  been  exercised  by  the  head  master,  to  whom 
it  offers  a  powerful  means  of  spiritual  influence.  The 
chapel    was  erected  in    1S14  and   contnins   five  painted 


LECTUHE   OF   TROF.    ORACK   O.   BIBB.  251 

memorial  windows,  which  are  much  admired,  one  being 
in   honor  of  Rugby's  Crimean  heroes   and    another  to 
those  of  its  sons  who  fell  in  India  during  the  Sepoy  Re- 
bellion.    Rugby   may  well  celebrate  the  fame  of    her 
military  heroes  for  they  have  won  glory  on  every  field 
known  to  their  country's  history  since  the  foundation  of 
their  Alma  Matcri — in  Africa  in  the  Peninsula,  at  Wa- 
terloo, in   the  Crimea    and  in  India.      The  wealth    of 
Rugby  may  be  inferred    from  the  fact  that  that  portion 
of  its  income  set  apart  for  the  payment  of  its  instructor* 
amounts   annually     to    the    large    sum    of    more    than 
.£20,000.     The   head    master,  who  by  the  original   pro- 
vision? of  Lnwrence  Sheriff's  grant,  was  obliged  to  sat- 
isfy his  temporal   wants  upon  a  stipend  of  £12  per  an- 
num, now  receiving  a  money   salary  of  $2957  exclusive 
of  a  residence,  garden  and  some  other  sources  of  emolu- 
ment.    As  in  all  the  other  great  schools,  so  here  there 
are  two  classes  of  students,  "foundationers,"  who  pay  no 
tuition  and    for  whose   benefit  the  original  grant  of  the 
founder  was  made,  and  unon-foundationers,"  boys    who 
pay  all  the  expenses  of  their  residence  including  tuition 
as  well  as  board.     The  number  of  this  latter  class  is 
much    greater   than    of  the   former.     There  is,  in  this 
school   at  least,  no  difference  in  the  social  status  of  the 
iwo  classes  of  pupils.     The  students  of  the  classical  de- 
partment, which  is  regarded  as  the  most  important,  are 
divided  into*  three  divisions  known   from   the   degree  of 
advancement  as  the  Upper,  Middle   and   Lower  schools. 
There  are,  besides,  schools  of  mathematics,  physics    and 
modern    languages,  though  their  place   seems   subordi- 
nate.    The  boys  of  the  classical  school  are  divided  into 
eix  "forms"  as   they  are   called,  "classes"  we  should   say 
which  are   for  convenience    sometimes   subdivided  into 
"parallel   divisions."      The  sixth    form   is  the    highest. 


252  UNIVERSITY    OP    MISSOURI- 

No  boy  is  allowed  to  remain  in  school  after  the  age  of 
nineteen;  no  boy  above  the  age  of  fifteen  is  admitted, 
unless  qualified  to  take  such  place  as  would  of  right  be- 
long to  his  years.  Classical  instruction  occupies  seven* 
teen  out  of  the  twenty-two  hours  of  weekly  attendance 
of  the  Rugby  boy  upon  class  instruction-  There  are 
two  examinations  of  the  entire  school  during  the  year, 
one  occurring  in  June,  the  other  in  December;  the  June 
examinations  of  the  sixth  form  being  conducted  by  a 
committee  appointed  by  the  universities.  A  number  of 
prizes,  some  of  consieerable  value,  are  offered,  and  there 
are  elected  annually,  at  an  examination  open  to  all  pu- 
pils who  have  been  in  residence  three  years,  five  persons 
as  representatives  of  the  school  at  the  universities  to 
whom  pecuniary  aid  in  sums  ranging  from  £4.0  to 
£80  per  annum  is  extended.  The  monitorial  sys- 
tem is  much  used  in  the  government.  The  moni- 
tors, technically  known  in  the  school  as  praeposters, 
are  the  boys  of  the  sixth  form;  they  keep  order 
during  roll-call,  call  over  the  names  of  students 
at  their  respective  boarding  houses  —  the  students 
are  apportioned  as  boarders  to  the  houses  of  the  several 
masters — and,  sometimes,  read  the  evening  prayers. 
Their  badge  of  office  is  a  light  cane,  and,  they  ai"e  em- 
powered to  use  this  cane  under  certain  circumstance,  ac- 
tively in  the  preservation  of  order,  upon  any  of  the  boys 
below  the  fifth  form  who  may  prove  refractory;  this 
punishment  is,  however,  limited  to  five  or  six  blows 
across  the  shoulders,  and  their  attempts  at  correction 
generally  take  the  form  of  the  imposition  of  extra  les- 
sons. Fagging  is  or  at  least  was,  in  Dr.  Arnold's  time» 
one  of  the  prominent  features  of  the  school,  resting  on 
the  assumption  that  for  the  material  aid  furnished  by  his 
junior  in  the  way  of  doing  errands,  dusting  or  making 


1.KCTDKK   OF   PROF.   GRACE    C.    BIBB.  253 

toast,  the  senior  was  to  return  full  equivalent  in  his  ca- 
pacity of  mentor.  This  ideal  interchange  of  equiva- 
lents, it  is  unnecessary  to  say,  rarely  exists  except  in 
theory.  Rugby  is  noted  for  its  games  of  which  foot- 
ball is  the  game  far  excellence',  cricket,  too,  is  a  favorite 
as  is  also  "hare  and  hounds."  The  river  Avon  which 
runs  past  the  town  furnishes  opportunity  for  bathing  and 
aquatic  sports  generally.  The  Rugby  boy  has  two  va- 
cations, amounting  in  the  aggregate  to  fifteen  weeks  in 
the  year  and  is  entitled  to  at  least  three  holidays  in  each 
week. 

The  beginning  of  Dr.  Arnold's  Rugby  career 
opened  wide  that  door  of  opportunity,  which,  indeed,  to 
him  who  seeks  it  is  never  closed.  The  prevalent 
feeling  that  the  public  schools  were  falling  into 
certain  grievous  errors,  that  as  a  minor  fault  they 
were  devoting  too  much  time  to  the  classics  and  too 
little  to  modern  languages  and  science,  that  as  a  very 
serious  mistake  they  were  daily  divorcing  their  in- 
struction more  and  more  from  religion,  was  a  conviction 
in  which  he  deeply  shared  and  this  field  of  labor  which 
afforded  opportunity  to  set  in  motion  the  much  needed 
reform,  the  enthusiasm  of  his  disposition  led  him  to 
seize  upon  with  joy.  Still  he  could  not  help  but  regret 
the  necessity  of  leaving  his  home  at  Laleham.  The 
surroundings  of  Rugby  were  at  best  commonplace,  and 
little  calculated  to  satisfy  his  love  for  the  beautiful  in 
nature.  To  escape  from  the  monotony  of  its  scenery  he 
purchased  some  time  afterward,  an  estate  in  the  Lake 
District  and  beautifully  situated,  which  was  to  him  the 
Mecca  of  many  a  pilgrimage  when  body  and  brain  and 
soul  cried  out  for  rest.  The  curious  mixture  in  the  mind 
of  Dr.  Arnold  of  conservatism  with  radicalism  made  his 
early  attempts  at  reform   in  the  school,  appear  chaotic 


254  UNIVERSITY    OF  MISSOUKI. 

and  illy  considered.  Since  he  was  always  ready  to  re- 
ceive and  entertain  suggestions  as  to  the  means  of  meet- 
ing difficulties,  his  system  hail  a  certain  external  fluidity, 
if  we  may  use  that  term,  which  was,  to  the  casual  ob- 
server, misleading;  he  had,  however,  a  touchstone  for 
all  methods  and  expedients  in  the  great  underlying  pur- 
pose of  his  administration.  His  hope  was  to  make  of 
these  boys,  who  represented  the  next  generation  of  up- 
holders of  the  national  honor,  Christian  gentlemen,  men 
who  should  have  such  clearness  of-  intellect  as  to  discern 
the  right,  such  moral  cultivation  that  they  would  prefer 
right  to  wrong  from  taste  as  well  as  conviction,  and  such 
courage,  that  they  would  be  ready  to  defend  what  they 
believed  the  cause  of  truth  and  justice  even  with  their 
lives.  Of  course,  in  a  school  as  large  as  Rugby, — num- 
bering from  two  hundred  and  fifty  to  three  hundred 
boys, — there  were  many  who  could  not,  or  would  not 
answer  to  appeals  made  from  any  views  of  life  so  seri- 
ous, and  it  was  the  practice  of  the  new  head  master  to 
remove  quietly  all  whose  presence  was  detrimental  to 
the  school  at  large  or  who  were  themselves,  for  what- 
ever reason,  incapable  of  being  improved.  So  ready 
and  accurate  was  his  judgment  of  boyish  character  that 
his  predictions  with  reference  to  the  youths  under  his 
care  were  in  most  instances  amply  justified.  He  was 
accustomed  to  advise  the  parents  of  the  boys  sent  away 
as  to  the  course  most  likely,  in  his  view,  to  prove  bene- 
ficial, the  result  often  proving  the  justice  of  his  conclu- 
sions. Expulsion  from  the  school  was  a  last  resort  in 
the  case  of  hardened  offenders.  His  plan  could  not, 
however,  escape  misrepresentation  and  was  aftci  ivard 
made  the  basis  of  malignant  abuse  of  the  Rugby  system. 
In  the  students  of  the  higher  classes  especially,  it 
was  the  desire  of  the   head  master  to  cultivate  a  strong: 


LECTURE   OF   PROF.    ORACE   C.    BIBB.  255 

sense  of  responsibility  for  the  general  welfare  and  pro- 
gress of  the  school;  this  he,  however,  accomplished  as 
much  as  possible  by  indirection  and  the  youth  in  whom 
the  feeling  was  strongest  was  frequently  the  last  to  sus- 
pect the  source  of  the  inspiration  which  had  breathed 
upon  and  renewed  his  spiritual  life.  The  author  of 
"School  Days  at  Rugby"  illustrates  this  admirably  in 
the  conversation  of  his  hero  with  one  of  the  masters 
held  on  the  eve  of  "Tom"'s  departure,  which  thus  con- 
cludes: 

"It  was  a  new  light  to  him  to  find  that  besides  teaching  the 
Sixth  and  governing  and  guiding  the  whole  6chool,  editing  clas- 
sics and  writing  histories,  the  great  Head  Master  had  found  time 
in  those  busy  years  to  watch  over  the  career,  even  of  him,  Tom 
Brown  and  his  particular  friends, — and  no  doubt  of  filty  other 
boys  at  the  same  time,  and  all  this  without  taking  the  least  credit 
to  himself,  or  seeming  to  know,  or  let  any  one  else  know,  that  he 
ever  thought  particularly  of  any  boy  at  all." 

The  direct  influence  of  Arnold  was  exerted  only 
upon  the  sixth  form,  which  as  I  have  already  said,  was 
the  highest,  but,  since  he  was  extremely  careful  in  the 
selection  of  his  assistants,  and  encouraged  each  to  stand 
as  nearly  as  possible  in  such  relation  to  the  boys  under 
his  immediate  supervision  as  he  himself  stood  to  the 
school  at  large,  exerting  a  similar  influence  and  striving 
for  similar  results,  his  spirit  pervaded  the  atmosphere  of 
the  place  and  gave  tone  to  the  entire  work. 

As  a  teacher  in  the  presence  of  his  class  the  efforts 
of  Dr.  Arnold  seem  to  have  been  mainly  directed  to  the 
cultivation  in  his  pupils  of  self  reliance  and  of  intellec- 
tual integrity ;  he  was  skillful  in  his  use  of  questions 
and  in  developing  the  unknown  from  the  known,  in 
leading  the  boys  to  discover  for  themselves  the  necessary 
connection  of  events  and  the  inter-dependence  of  facts, 
in  rousing  desire  to  know  causes  and  to  express  thought 


256  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

logically.  He  worked,  as  it  were,  with  the  boys  asking 
information  freely  from  them  on  any  subject  not  within 
his  own  immediate  range,  never  assuming  any  special 
superiority  of  manner  or  any  profundity  of  scholarship, 
but  impressing  at  once  by  the  quiet  natural  dignity 
which  needed  no  adventitious  support,  and  by  the 
treasures  of  knowledge  from  which  he  drew  that  abund- 
ant illustration  which  gave  to  his  lectures,  particularly 
in  history,  so  vivid  an  interest.  The  chapel  services 
were  almost  the  only  occasions  afforded  him  of  reaching 
the  entire  school;  how  he  exercised  this  power  the 
author  of  "School  Days  at  Rugby"  himself  a  Rugby 
boy  and  "great  part"  of  that  which  he  describes  has  told 
us  in  his  own  graphic  way  and  has  dwelt  with  loving 
recollections  on  "The  oak  pulpit  standing  out  by  itself 
above  the  school  seats.  The  tall  gallant  form,  the  kind- 
ling eye,  the  voice  now  soft  as  the  low  notes  of  a  flute, 
now  clear  and  stirring  as  the  call  of  the  light  infantry 
bu^le,  of  him  who  stood  there  Sunday  after  Sunday 
witnessing  and  pleading  for  his  Lord  the  King  of 
righteousness  and  love  and  glory,  with  whose  spirit  he 
was  filled,  and  in  whose  power  he  spoke.  The  long 
lines  of  young  faces  rising  tier  above  tier  down  the 
whole  length  of  the  chapel,"  and  of  the  "soft-twilight" 
which  stole  over  all  and  deepened  "into  darkness  in  the 
high  gallery  behind  the  organ."  He  has  told  us  too  how 
these  bovs  "listened  as  all  boys  in  their  better  moods 
will  listen"  and  how  "wearily  and  little  by  little,  but 
surely  and  steadily,  on  the  whole,  was  brought  home  to 
the  young  boy  for  the  first  time,  the  meaning  of  his  life; 
that  it  was  no  fool's  or  sluggard's  paradise  into  which  he 
had  wandered  by  chance,  but  a  battle  field,  ordained 
from  of  old,  where  there  are  no  spectators,  but  the 
youngest  must  take  his  side,  and  the  stakes  are  life  and 


LECTURE    OF     PROF.    GRACE    C.    BIBB.  257 

death,  and  "[he  who  roused  this  consciousness  in  them 
showed  them  at  the  same  time  by  every  word  he  spoke 
in  the  pulpit  and  by  his  whole  daily  life,  how  the  battle 
was  to  be  fought  and  stood  there  before  them  their  fel- 
low-soldier and  the  captain  of  their  band." 

Thehead-mastership  of  Arnold  continued  for  four- 
teen years — years  not  undisturbed  by  calumny  and  mis- 
representation, but  yet,  full  of  that  deep  underlying 
peace  which  consciousness  of  duty  well  and  faithfully 
performed  must  bring  to  heroic  souls.  The  strenuous 
zeal  of  Dr.  Arnold  for  what  he  believed  to  be  the  truth 
led  to  a  heated  controversy  with  the  High  Church  party 
which  was,  indirectly,  the  cause  of  most  persistent  and 
outrageous  personal  attack  upon  him  through  the  me- 
dium of  the  press,  and  although  he  made  no  public  allu- 
sion thereto  nor  noticed  the  slanders  thus  set  in  circula- 
tion, he  could  not  help  but  feel  unhappiriess,  especially  as 
he  found  himself  ostracised  for  his  opinions,  by  many  of 
his  former  friends.  Confident  of  the  justice  of  his  cause 
he,  through  all,  went  on  steadily  with  his  work,  and  as 
steadily  the  purity  and  strength  of  his  character  grew 
into  appreciation,  until,  in  the  later  years  of  his  Rugby 
residence,  he  had  gained  the  entire  respect  and  admira- 
tion of  even  his  former  adversaries. 

In  1S41  he  was  appointed  "Regins  Professor  of 
Modern  History"  at  the  University  of  Oxford,  the  com- 
pliment of  his  election  being  greatly  enhanced  in  value 
by  reason  of  his  late  controversy  with  the  Oxford  party 
in  Church  and  State.  No  work  could  have  been  more 
entirely  accordant  to  Dr.  Arnold's  taste  than  that  which 
opened  before  him  in  this  professorship,  and  he  did  not 
hesitate  at  once  to  accept  it;  but  as  his  duties  would  not 
require  residence  he  determined  to  retain,  at  least  for  a 
time,  Ins  place  at  Rugby,  devoting  the   Oxford  salary  to 


258  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 

the  foundation  of  university  scholarships.  His  inaug- 
ural lecture  was  delivered  in  December  of  the  same  year, 
and  treated,  as  we  learn  from  his  correspondence,  "of 
the  several  parts  of  history  generally  and  their  relations 
to  each  other  and  then  of  the  peculiarities  of  modern 
history."  The  occasion  was  naturally  of  the  greatest  in- 
terest and  the  audience  was  very  large,  their  accommoda- 
tion rendering  necessary  the  opening  of  the  "Theatre." 
Arnold  had,  without  yielding  in  any  way  his  con- 
victions, conquered  a  triumphant  peace,  and  in  the  light 
of  her  full  recognition,  whatever  might  at  any  time 
have  alienated  him  from  his  alma  mater  faded  away, 
leaving  his  return  to  the  jilace  he  had  so  long  and  so 
deeply  loved  unclouded  by  either  doubts  or  regrets.  So 
with  thankfulness  and  joy  of  heart  he  entered  upon  the 
duties  of  that  office  which  had  from  afar  brightened  be- 
fore him  as  the  noblest  goal  of  his  ambition.  Not  yet 
forty-seven  years  of  age,  in  the  full  flush  and  vigor  of 
his  manhood;  looking  back  upon  patient,  strenuous  and 
successful  effort  in  a  cause  which  seemed  to  him  the  no- 
blest to  whose  defence  any  man  is  called ;  looking  for- 
ward to  a  new  epoch  in  the  work  of  his  life  in  which  it 
should  more  than  ever  be  his  task  to  call  up  from  their 
tombs  the  heroic  dead  of  all  time  that  their  examples 
might  mould  to  something  like  heroism  the  age  in  which 
he  lived,  looking  forward  still  beyond  to  that  blessed  re- 
tirement at  "Fox  How,"  where,  surrounded  by  his  fam- 
ily, soothed  and  animated  by  the  natural  beauty  of  all  the 
local  associations  he  might  pass  in  peaceful  literary  la- 
bors the  evening  of  his  days,  he  seemed  of  the  fortu- 
nate most  fortunate.  Surely  auspicious  deities  beckoned 
him  onward,  holding  out  to  him  the  gift  of  happy 
days  or  whatever  gift  greater  than  happy  days  they 
offer  to  mortals.     Cicero,   in  that  one  of  his    Tusculan 


LECTURE   OF    PROF.   GRACE   C.   BIBB.  259 

Disputatious  written  "On  the  Contempt  of  Death" 
quotes  two  well  known  stories  told  by  the  Greeks,  the 
one  of  Cleobis  and  Biton,  sons  of  the  Argive  priest- 
ess, the  other  of  Trophonius  and  Agamedes.  The 
priestess  mother  of  the  youths  "is  said  to  have  entreated 
the  goddess  to  bestow  on  them  as  a  reward  for  their 
filial  piety,  the  greatest  gift  that  a  god  could  confer 
on  man,  and  the  young  men,  having  feasted  with  their 
mother,  fell  asleep;  and  in  the  morning  they  were  found 
dead."  Trophonius  and  Agamedes  made  a  similar  re- 
quest "for  they  having  built  a  temple  to  Apollo  at  Del- 
phi offered  supplications  to  the  God  *  *  *  asking  for 
whatever  was  best  for  men.  Accordingly  Apollo  signi- 
fied to  them  that  he  would  bestow  it  on  them  in  three 
days,  and  on  the  third  day  at  daybreak  they  were  found 
dead."  Was  it  the  be9t  gift  of  the  gods  to  Arnold  of 
Rugby  that  he  too,  when  most  the  favorite  of  fortune, 
when  most  entitled  to  claim  the  future  as  his  own,  should 
also,  in  the  old  heathen  phrase,  "at  daybreak"  have  been 
"found  dead  ?" 

It  was  on  the  morning  of  Sunday,  June  12th,  1842; 
the  preceding  Saturday  had  closed  the  year  at  Rugby; 
in  all  the  attendant  exercises  the  head  master  had  taken 
his  usual  lively  interest — in  the  school  speeches,  in  the 
visit  of  the  board  of  examiners,  in  the  work  of  the 
fifth  form.  He  had  distributed  the  prizes  and  preach- 
ed the  final  sermon;  he  had  closed  his  New  Testament 
lectures  with  a  dissertation  on  those  words  of  the  apostle 
which  were  to  prove  themselves  prophetic:  "It  doth  not 
appear  what  we  shall  be;  but  we  know  that  when  He 
shall  appear  we  shall  be  like  Him  for  we  shall  see  Him 
as  he  is."  At  the  supper  given  in  farewell  to  the  sixth 
form  on  Saturday  evening  no  one  had  been  more 
cheerful  or  more  hopeful  than  Arnold,  no  one  seemed  to 


260  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 

hold  more  firmly  to  life.  Then  the  labors  of  the  whole 
year  over,  lessons  recited,  sermons  preached,  prizes  dis- 
tributed, the  great  head  master  of  Rugby  lay  down  to 
his  last  sleep.  Very  early  on  Sunday  morning  he  was 
roused  by  a  sharp  pain  in  his  chest  which  increased  con- 
stantly in  its  intensity.  The  destroyer  of  his  father's  life 
claimed  his  also.  Medical  skill  could  do  nothing  to  re- 
lieve his  suffering;  affection  was  powerless  to  hold  him 
to  the  earth  and  at  eight  o'clock  he  was  dead.  Only 
the  day  before  the  boys  of  the  school  had  seen  him  in 
their  midst,  the  life  and  soul  of  the  place,  now  already 
he  was  become  only  a  memory ;  imagine  their  conster- 
nation, their  grief,  as  they  attempted  to  realize  that  the 
"captain  of  their  band"  had  in  the  very  hour  of  victory 
fainted  under  the  burden  of  life  and  of  the  flesh,  and 
had  gone  forth  with  the  waning  night,  "A  lone  soul  to 
the  lone  God." 

As  was  preeminently  fitting,  Arnold  was  buried  in. 
the  chapel  which  had  so  often  re-echoed  his  words  of 
wisdom,  of  encouragement  and  of  consolation,  and  there 
was  erected  to  his  memory  the  monument  which  repret 
sents  the  common  desire  of  men  of  all  parties  and  all 
sects  to  do  him  reverence. 

It  were  indeed  a  task  most  idle  were  I  to  attempt 
description  of  the  sorrow  which  his  death  caused,  not  to 
the  Rugby  boys  alone,  not  to  his  family  and  friends- 
merely  but  to  the  great  host  of  boys  as  well,  who  now 
become  men  and  filling  their  various  places  in  the  world 
with  less  or  more  honor,  looked  back  to  Rugby  as  to 
the  place  in  which  they  were  first  taught  to  realize  the 
true  value  of  life,  for  these  there  had  indeed  with  him, 
"passed  away  a  glory  from  the  earth." 

The  life  of  Arnold  more  almost  than  that  of  any 
other  man  of  our  times  must  be   estimated  as   a  whole; 


LECTURE   OF   PROF.   GRACE   C.   BIBB.  261 

not  as  that  of  a  teacher  though  instruction  was  his  de- 
light; not  as  that  of  a  student  though  every  day  added  to 
the  rich  treasures  of  his  knowledge;  not  as  that  of  a 
clergyman  though  his  chaplaincy  was  a  veritable  cure  of 
souls,  not  as  that  of  husband  and  father  though  no  do- 
mestic life  was  ever  happier;  not  as  that  of  Regins  Pro- 
fessor at  Oxford,  though  here  he  found  the  crowning 
glory  of  his  ambition,  but  as  that  of  a  man,  most  worthy 
to  be  thus  designated,  embracing  all  these  as  its  mo- 
ments, and  hence,  more  than  that  of  any  contemporary, 
"a  living  epistle  known  and  read  of  all  men,"  since  it  is 
after  all,  character  which  acts  on  character,  spirit  which 
responds  to  spirit  throughout  the  Universe.  The  eter- 
nal principle  in  humanity,  that  by  which  it  is  allied  to 
the  Creator  recognizes  its  spiritual  kinship  with  what- 
ever of  the  same  divine  spirit  may  be  found  in  man. 
How  Arnold's  spirit  made  itself  a  power,  what  aspira- 
tions ennobled,  what  weak  hands  strengthened  what 
souls  saved  who  can  tell  us  more  feelingly  or  more  faith- 
fully than  his  gifted  son  when  he  says: 

"Thou  would'st  not  alone 
Be  saved,  my  father!  alone 
Conquer  and  come  to  thy  goal, 
Leaving  the  rest  in  the  wild. 
We  were  weary,  and  we 
Fearful,  and  we  in  our  march 
Fain  to  drop  down  and  to  die. 
Still  thou  turnedst,  and  still 
Beckoncdst  the  trembler,  and  still 
Gavest  the  weary  thy  hand, 
If,  in  the  paths  of  the  world, 
Stones  might  have  wounded  thy  feet, 
Toil  or  dejection  have  tried 
Thy  spirit,  of  that'we  saw 
Nothing — to  ui  thou  wast  still 
Cheerful,  and  helpfwl,  and  firm! 


262  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 

Therefore  to  thee  it  was  given 
Many  to  save  with  thyself; 
And,  at  the  end  of  thy  day, 
O  faithful  shepherd!  to  come, 
Bringing  thy  sheep  in  thy  hand. 

And  through  thee  I  believe 
In  the  noble  and  great  who  are  gone ; 
Pure  souls  honor'd  and  blest 
By  former  ages,  who  else- 
Such,  so  soulless,  so  poor, 
Is  the  race  of  men  whom  I  see — 
Seemed  but  a  dream  of  the  heart, 
Seem'd  but  a  cry  of  desire. 
Yes!  I  believe  that  there  lived 
Others  like  thee  in  the  past, 
Not  like  the  men  of  the  crowd, 
Who  all  round  me  to-day 
Bluster  or  cringe,  and  make  life 
Hideous,  and  arid,  and  vile; 
But  souls  tempered  with  fire, 
Fervent,  heroic  and  good, 
Helpers  and  friends  of  mankind."' 


THE      PROFESSIONAL     SCHOOL      IN     THE 
AMERICAN  UNIVERSITY. 


By  Thomas  Jefferson  Lowry,  S.  M.,  C.  E.,  Pro- 
fessor of  Civil  and  Topographical  Engineer- 
ing, and  Dean  of  Engineering  Faculty,  in  the 
University  of  the  State  of  Missouri. 

The  changes  which  discovery  and  invention  have, 
within  this  century,  wrought  in  the  life  of  society  and 
the  nation  are  amazing.  The  gas-jet  has  taken  the 
place  of  the  tallow  candle,  and  the  telegraph,  telephone, 
and  phonograph  that  of  the  post.  But  steam  and  the 
multiplication  of  machinery  have  been  the  most  far- 
reaching  in  their  effects, — they  have  revolutionized  every 
industry  of  our  country.  Every  labor-saving  machine 
invented  and  adopted  throws  thousands  out  of  employ- 
ment; and  crying  distresses  unavoidably  characterize 
these  violent  social  changes.  In  ameliorating  the  con- 
dition of  the  unemployed  we  are  obviously  reduced  to 
this  dilemma:  Either,  the  wheels  of  discovery  and  in- 
vention must  be  blocked,  or,  our  affairs  and  social  condi- 
tions must  be  adjusted  to  those  new  circumstances.  The 
progress  of  our  civilization  demands  that  the  first  shall 
not  be  done,  and,  hence,  society  must  adjust  itself  to  this 
new  order  of  things.  It  is  a  fixed  fact  in  our  civilization 
that  nature's  forces  have  been  subjugated  to  our  needs, — 


264  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 

by  it  we  kave  grown  as  a  nation  to  what  we  are,  and  it 
now  underlies  our  whole  existence.  And  despite  the 
howls  of  ignorance,  and  fanatic  opposition  of  red-handed 
communism,  steam  and  wind  and  gravity  and  electricity 
will  continue  to  nerve  the  untiring  arms  of  machinery  in 
working  for  man ;  thereby  forcing  him  on  to  a  hio-her 
plane  of  existence,  and  giving  the  common  laborer  com- 
forts which,  a  few  centuries  ago,  kings  could  not  pur- 
chase. 

Seeing  then  that  a  readjustment  of  vocations  is  ne- 
cessitated by  the  perpetual  elimination,  by  labor-saving 
machinery,  of  the  great  multitude  of  least  intelligent  and 
least  versatile  laborers,  we  ask  "what  are  the  remedies?" 

Obviously,  they  are:   ist  migration. 

2nd.  Education  of  the  people  to  versatility.  Mi- 
gration is  necessary  and  desirable  under  all  circumstances. 
Large  numbers  of  people  cast  on  shore  by  the  fluctua- 
tions of  mechanic  industry,  must  seek  homes  on  the 
border  land.  The  continuous  circulation  thus  kept  up 
between  the  centre  and  circumference  of  our  country,  is 
a  national  tonic.  It  is  the  great  available  means  of  pres- 
ent readjustment  of  vocations.  It  says  to  the  citizen  who 
falls  out  of  the  line  of  productive  industry:  "Go  to  the 
foot  of  the  line  and  begin  again.  Engage  in  the  excit- 
ing task  of  building  up  civilization  in  an  empty  wilder- 
ness and  you  and  your  children  shall  thrive  once  more." 
But,  migration  does  not  completely   solve  the  problem; 

for,  migration  itself  presupposes  versatility.  Thus,  the 
question  recurs,  with  redoubled  force,  what  will  give  this 
versatility  ?  All  agree  on  the  general  answer — Educa- 
tion. But,  as  to  the  kind  of  education  there  are  three 
theories,  differing  either,  in  methods,  or  aims,  or  both. 

The  aim  of  the  first  of  these  is  the  perfection  of  the 
individual,  and  its  method  is  mental  gymnastics,  in  the 
pursuit  of  truth. 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    LOWKY,  265 

The  aim  of  the  second  is  the  conservation,  improve- 
ment, and  transmission  of  our  civilization,  and  the  method 
it  employs  is  possessing  ourselves  of  truth. 

The  third  employs  the  methods  of  the  first,  as  pre- 
paratives, for  compassing  the  aims  of  the  second. 

The  first  is  the  ancient,  the  second  is  the  rational, 
and  the  third  is  the  traditional  system..  One  or  the 
other  of  these  theories  has  shaped  the  curriculum  of  ev- 
ery English  and  American  college,  and  now  presides 
over  its  educational  efforts.  The  first  of  these  we  find 
i  embodied  in  the  English  Universities;  the  third,  in  those 
of  our  colleges  which  are  of  English  parentage  and 
model;  and,  the  second,  in  those  of  our  Universities 
which  are  the  necessary  outgrowths  of  American  civili- 
zation— prominent  among  which  are  Virginia,  Cornell, 
Michigan,  Missouri,  and  John  Hopkins. 

The  problem  before  us  now  is  to  determine  which 
Of  these  systems  furnishes  the  most  direct  proximate 
means  of  attaining  versatility.  The  ancient  system 
views  man  as  an  end  unto  himself,  ignores  the  necessity 
— admitedly  makes  no  pretentions  to  qualify — for  exer- 
cising any  trade,  calling,  or  profession,  and  hence,  has  no 
claim  on  our  attention  in  this  inquiry.  Now  the  tradi- 
tional and  the  rational  systems  agree  that  the  great  end 
of  all  culture  is  preparation  for  the  activities  of  life;  they 
differ  only  in  the  methods  employed  for  attaining  this 
end.  The  traditional  system  says,  learn  first  the  useless 
fact  B  to  get  the  discipline  necessary  to  acquire  the  useful 
fact  C;  while  the  rational  system  ignores  useless  B  and 
attacks  C  at  once,  making  it  serve  both  for  knowledge 
and  discipline.  Now,  since  it  costs  as  much  effort  to 
learn  a  useless  fact  as  a  useful  one,  it  is  obvious,  that,  by 
that  method,  half  the  mental  power  is  wasted,  and  by 
this  method  there  is  none.     In  the  vicarious  discipline  of 


266  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 

that  method,  a  certain  amount  of  the  plastic  force  of  the 
system  is  used  up,  and  is,  therefore,  not  available  for 
other  purposes.  This,  is  the  extra  mental  cost  of  the  tra- 
ditional system  for  which  we  have  to  show  an  equivalent 
in  solid  advantages,  either  in  knowledge  or  discipline,  for 
the  activities  of  life,  or  it  will  be  forced,  on  the  score  of 
economy,  to  give  way  to  the  rational  system.  Now,  in. 
what  do  the  traditional  and  rational  curricula  differ  as 
to  subject  matter  (knowledge)?  Essentially  this:  that 
the  six  years  work  in  the  classics  of  that  system  is,  in 
this  one,  replaced  by  two  years  in  the  modern  languages 
and  four  years  in  the  natural  sciences  and  the  applied 
mathematics.  It  is  admitted  that  these  modern  languages- 
— French  and  German — yield  discipline,  at  least,  equal 
to  the  classics.  And  what  is  incomparably  of  greater 
value,  they  reveal  those  thoughts,  those  mind  processes, 
those  instruments  which  have  revolutionized  the  condi- 
tion of  our  existence,  and  which  are  even  now  the  ad- 
vance guards  in  the  march  of  (modern)  civilization* 
When  we  consider  that  these  fields  of  thought  and  re- 
search were  to  the  classics,  and  are  now  to  the  classicists* 
dream-land,  how  ludicrous  appears  the  assumption  that 
the  classics  furnish  knowledge  and  discipline  equal  to 
that  of  the  modern  languages,  for  giving  versatility  in 
life's  activities.  And  it  does  not  admit  of  intelligent 
question  that  it  is  the  natural  sciences  and  the  applied 
mathematics  which  furnish  the  mainsprings  of  our  ma- 
terial prosperity,  supply  the  truths  indispensible  to  pro- 
ductive activity  in  any  of  the  industries.  Now,  in  fact, 
the  value  of  a  knowledge  of  the  classics,  on  the  ground 
of  the  information  exclusively  contained  in  Latin  and 
Greek  authors,  lias  steadily  decreased  as  the  number  of 
good  translations  from  them  have  increased.  In  this 
progressive  decrease  a  point  has  been  reached  where  the 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    LOWRY.  267 

residuum  of  valuable  information  still  locked  up  in  the 
classics,  does  not  justify  the  efforts  necessarily  expended 
in  acquiring  these  languages.  It  is  true  that  there  are 
certain  artistic  effects  in  literary  composition,  and  pecu- 
liar subtleties  of  thought  in  the  moral  and  metaphysical 
sciences  which  are  untranslatable;  and  that  the  peculiar 
aroma  of  classical  poetry,  is  incommunicable,  yet  if  a 
man  is  conversant  with  the  best  translations,  he  cannot 
be  far  from  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  When  the  advo- 
cates of  the  traditional  system  were  made  to  see  that  the 
price  to  be  paid  for  these  untranslatables  and  incommu- 
nicables  of  the  classics,  was  no  less  a  labor  than  the  com- 
plete acquisition  of  the  Latin  and  Greek  languages;  and 
were  shown  the  living  truths  which  the  same  amount  of 
labor  would  have  gathered  in  the  fields  of  modern 
thought  aud  research;  and  were  reminded  of  the  fact 
that  every  industrial  pursuit  is  steeped  in  science;  and 
were  forced  to  recognize  that  there  is  not  a  fact  or  prin- 
ciple in  the  whole  compass  of  physical  science,  or  in  the 
arts  and  practices  of  life,  that  is  not  fully  expressed  in  ev- 
ery civilized  modern  language,  they  reluctantly  yielded 
the  point  of  the  usefulness  of  the  knowledge  in  the 
classics  for  attaining  versatility ;  and  took  their  stand  on 
the  proposition,  that  the  classical  languages  train  the 
mind  for  the  activities  of  life  as  nothing  else  does. 

Now,  determined  as  it  fe,  that  the  truths  of  modern 
science  are  of  more  worth  than  those  in  the  classics, 
for  guidance  and  use  in  the  activities  of  life,  it  remains 
to  judge  of  the  relative  values  of  these  two  knowledges 
for  purposes  of  training  for  these  activities.  We  may 
be  quite  sure,  says  the  great  philosopher,  Spencer,  that 
the  acquirement  of  those  classes  of  facts,  which  are  most 
useful  in  the  arts  and  practices  of  life,  involves  a  mental 
exercise  best  fitting  for  life's  activities.     It   would  be  ut- 


268  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 

terly  contrary  to  the  beautiful  economy  of  nature  if  one 
kind  of  culture  were  needed  for  the  gaining  of  informa- 
tion and  another  kind  needed  as  a  mental  gymnastic. 
Everywhere,  throughout  creation,  we  find  faculties  de- 
veloped through  the  performance  of  those  functions 
which  it  is  their  office  to  perform;  not  through  the  per- 
formance of  artificial  exercises  devised  to  fit  them  for 
these  functions.  The  red  Indian  acquires  the  swiftness 
and  agility  which  make  him  a  successful  hunter  by  the 
actual  pursuit  of  animals.  By  the  miscellaneous  activi- 
ties of  farm  life  the  farmer  gains  a  better  balance  of 
physical  powers  than  gymnastics  ever  give.  '  The  same 
law  holds  throughout  education.  The  education  of  most 
value  tor  guidance  must,  at  the  same  time,  be  the  edu- 
cation of  most  value  for  discipline.  Now  the  evidence. 
The  advantages  claimed  for  language  learning  are: 
First,  it  strengthens  the  memory.  True;  but  the  sciences 
of  Physics,  Chemistry,  Geology,  Mineralogy,  Botany 
and  Astronomy  afford  far  wider  and  richer  fields  for  the 
exercise  of  memory.  Now  mark  that  while  for  the 
training  of  mere  memory,  science  is  as  good  as,  if  not 
better  than,  language;  it  has  an  immense  superiority  in 
the  kind  of  memory  it  cultivates.  In  the  acquirement  of 
a  language,  the  connections  of  the  ideas  to  be  established 
in  the  mind  correspond  to  facts  which  are  in  a  great 
measure  accidental;  whereas,  in  the  acquirement  of 
science,  the  connections  of  ideas  to  be  established  in  the 
mind  correspond  to  facts  that  are  mostly  necessary. 
Unless — as  is  commonly  not  true — the  natural  relations 
between  words  and  their  meanings  are  explained,  then 
language  learning  gives  fortuitous  relations.  The  rela- 
tions which  science  presents  are  causal  relations;  instead 
■of  being  practically  accidental,  they  are  necessary; 
and,  as  such,  exercise  the  reasoning  faculties.     Language 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    LOWRY.  269 

familiarizes  with  non-rational  relations,  science  familiar- 
izes with  rational  relations.  That  one,  exercises  mem- 
ory only;  this  one,  exercises  both  memory  and  under- 
standing. 

The  translation  exercise  cultivates -inventive  power, 
— but  it  is  only  a  power  to  arrange  words,  and  not  a 
power  of  marshaling  scientific  truths  and  principles  for 
meeting  (solving)  the  difficulties  arising  in  the  activities 
of  life.  By  converting  the  mind  into  a  kaleidoscope  of 
words,  it  gives  only  such  an  inventive  power  as  is  needed 
to  solve  riddles  and  conundrums. 

Bain  says,  "  that  all  experience  shows  that  only  very 
inferior  English  composition  is  the  result  of  translating 
from  Latin  or  Greek  into  English.  And,  that  the  study 
of  the  classics  is  devoid  of  interest;  and  what  makes  it 
tolerable  is  the  large  devotion  of  time  to  the  themes  of 
universal  interest — personal  and  sensation  narrative." 
Certain  it  is,  however,  that  these  languages  become  parts 
of  a  rational  curriculum  only  when  "  taught,  not  merely  as 
gymnastics,  but  as  embodiments  of  food  for  the  soul," 
as  in  the  Missouri  University. 

It  is  reprehensible  to  delude  the  student  with  the 
fallacies,  that  through  a  scheme  of  aimless  exercises  (in 
the  classics)  for  discipline  mental  power  may  be  accumu- 
lated for  universal  application,  and  that  the  aseful  truths 
needed,  will  be  gathered  by  the  wayside,  with  little  ef- 
fort, out  in  active  life.  It  is  not  a  fact,  that  the  vitalizing 
truths  in.  any  department  of  human  thought,  hang  around 
us  like  apples  on  a  tree,  to  be  gathered  with  little  effort. 
There  is  no  such  thing  as  getting  possession  of  truths  "  by 
throwing  salt  on  their  tails."  Gaining  possession  of  the 
truths  of  the  useful  sciences  means  mental  exercise  more 
varied,  vigorous,  protracted,  and  exhilarating  than  any  to 
be  found  in  the  pursuit  of  the  classics;  it  means  more: — 


270  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

nourishment  for  the  mind, — food  tor  the  soul.  The  pur- 
suit of  truth  exercises  and  disciplines  the  mind;  but  it  is 
truth  possessed — digested  and  assimilated — which  nour- 
ishes and  strengthens  the  mind.  The  pursuit  of  the 
classics,  failing  to  impart  vitalizing  truths,  enfeebles  while 
it  exercises  and  disciplines  the  mind.  The  pursuit  of  the 
truths  of  science  exercises  and  disciplines,  while  their 
possession  enlightens,  nourishes,  strengthens,  and  ener- 
gizes the  mind.  The  classics  stimulate  to  imitation;  the 
sciences  stimulate  to  individuality.  Those  give  the  stu- 
dent to  antiquity;  these  give  him  to  himself.  The  classics 
make  hero  worshipers;  science  makes  heroes. 

The  dogmatic  teachings  of  the  classics  engender  blind 
faith  in  authorities,  and  thus  smother  out  independent 
thought  and  inquiry .  Science,  by  revealing  the  causal 
relations  of  the  facts  and  phenomena  of  nature,  arms  and 
stimulates  the  mind  to  independent  inquiry  and  research; 
and,  thus,  fosters  independence, — that  most  valuable  ele- 
ment in  character, — that  essence  of  true  manhood. 

"I  tell  you  there  is  something  splendid  in  that  young  man 
who  will  not  always  mind.  Why,  if  we  had  done  as  the  kings 
told  us  five  hundred  years  ago,  we  would  all  have  been  slaves.  If 
we  had  done  as  the  old  school  doctors  told  us  we  would  all  have 
been  dead.  If  we  had  done  as  our  antiquated  classical  teachers 
told  us,  we  would  have  all  been  mental  imbeciles.  We  have  been 
saved  by  disobedience;  we  have  been  saved  by  that  splendid  thing 
called  independence,  and  I  want  to  see  more  of  it,  day  after  day, 
and  I  want  to  see  children  raised  up  so  they  will  have  it.  Give 
the  children  a  chance  for  success.  Don't  try  to  teach  them  some- 
thing they  can  never  learn.  Don't  insist  upon  their  pursuing  some 
calling  they  have  no  sort  of  taste  or  talent  for.  Don't  make  that 
poor  girl  play  ten  years  on  a  piano  when  she  has  no  ear  for 
music,  and  when  she  has  practiced  until  she  can  play  'Bonaparte 
Crossing  the  Alps,'  and  you  can't  tell  after  she  has  played  it 
whether  Bonaparte  ever  got  across  or  not." 

Individuality  is  the  soul  of  success.     The  men  who 


LECTURE    OF    PKOF.    LOWEY.  271 

achieve  the  greatest  successes  out  in  real  life,  are  those 
who  bristle  all  over  with  individuality.  Common  sense 
then  clearly  points  to  those  educational  facilities  which 
insure  the  freest  and  fullest  development  of  individuality, 
as  the  means  most  potent,  in  raising  the  mental  faculties 
of  childhood  and  boyhood  to  their  highest  degrees  of 
healthful  capability.  Straight-jackets  for  mind  and  body 
•are  known,  neither  in  the  family  circle  nor  out  in  busy 
life.  They  are  instruments  for  crippling  normal  activity, 
and  are  peculiar  to  the  asylum  and  the  colleges  ancient 
and  traditional. 

Education  in  the  family  individualizes.  The  intui- 
tion of  the  mother  detects  the  mental  proclivities  of  the 
child,  and  nourishes  and  directs  them  in  the  lines  of  their 
peculiar  activities.  Hence,  we  see  why  so  many  great 
men  attribute  their  success  to  their  early  home  training; 
why,  in  the  zenith  of  their  fame,  they  invoke  blessings 
on  her  who  paved  their  way  to  success.  It  is  she 
who  so  energizes  the  intellectual  faculties  of  the  child 
that  no  reasonable  amount  of  the  cramping  and  cram- 
ming processes  of  our  traditional  colleges  can  wholly 
paralyze  them.  Yes,  cramp  the  mind  as  you  may,  cor- 
set it  as  you  will  with  the  curricula  of  these  colleges, 
yet,  if  not  strained  beyond  the  limit  of  perfect  elasticity, 
individuality  reasserts  itself,  and  nerves  it  on  to  a  success 
directly  proportional  to  its  surviving  energies.  But  let 
the  mind  be  strained  by  a  classical  course  till  it  receives 
a  permanent  set  Greece-ward  or  Rome-ward,  till  the 
head  is  charged  with  antiquated  ideas,  till  the  mind  is 
enervated  by  mumbling  over  the  dry  bones  of  antiquity, 
and  is  thus  incapacitated  to  resume  its  relation  with  the 
on-flowing  current  of  events  of  the  age,  then,  the  chances 
are  high  that  we  will  behold  the  pitiable  spectacle  of  it 
giving  the  go-by  to  modern  thought  and  knowledge  and 


272  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 

thinning  down  its  intellectual  life  to  a  languid  sursing  of 
its  classical  memories.  Seeing  then  that  individuality  is 
the  inspiring  thought  of  the  educations  received  at  home 
and  out  in  life,  I  submit,  that  it  should  preside  over  the 
education  in  college,  in  order  to  make  it  (education)  a 
continuous  process. 

Disciplining  the  student  in  the  sciences,  gives  a 
knowledge  of,  and  trains  in  the  use  of,  the  forces,  mate- 
rials, and  objects  of  nature, — things  which  challenge  his 
attention  in  boyhood,  and  force  themselves  upon  him  in 
manhood.  Education  in  the  sciences  is  a  continuation  of 
the  healthy  plastic  education  of  boyhood,  and  it  flows  on 
out  into  the  intellectual  life  of  a  productive  manhood. 

The  vicarious  discipline  in  the  classics  not  only  in- 
volves enormous  waste,  but  it  utterly  ignores  the  fact 
that,  the  leading  out  of  the  mental  faculties,  which  we 
call  education,  should  be  a  continuous  process, — begin- 
ning at  the  cradle  and  ending  at  the  grave.  The  educa- 
tions received,  Jirst  at  home,  second  at  college,  and  third 
out  in  busy  life,  are  interdependent,  and  should  hence  be 
parts  of  one  harmonious  whole.  Now,  our  traditional 
system  of  education  is  neither  an  outgrowth  of  the 
proper  education  of  childhood,  nor  does  it  flow  on  into 
the  intellectual  life  of  manhood;  it  is  a  foreign  body  of 
thought,  a  cramping,  cramming,  distorting  process,  un- 
congenial and  unaffiliated,  thrust  into  the  college  period, 
and  destroying  the  unity  and  continuity  of  the  mental 
career. 

When  forced  from  the  position  that  the  classics  fur- 
nish superior  discipline  for  the  activities  of  life,  the  advo- 
cates of  the  traditional  system  insisted,  as  a  peculiar 
merit,  that  it  gives  "broad  culture."  Broad  culture!  Ah, 
yes!  an  expression  which  has  that  amount  of  vagueness 
about  it  which  makes  it  a  convenient  shelter  for  a  bad 


LiKCTURK   OF   PROF.    LOWRY.  273 

case.  That  mind  is  nearest  perfect  (/.  e.  raised  to  its 
highest  degree  of  healthful  capability)  whose  faculties 
are  fully  and  harmoniously  developed.  The  traditional 
colleges  have  erred  in  construing  full  and  harmonious  de- 
velopment, to  mean  even  development,  and  to  imply  va- 
ried learning,  or,  as  they  express  it,  in  a  glittering  gen- 
erality, broad  culture.  On  the  first  blush,  varied  learn- 
ing would  appear  to  promise  versatility.  If  the  ener- 
gies of  the  human  mind  were  unlimited,  and  if  mental 
digestion  was  aot  a  prerequisite  to  mental  assimilation,  i. 
«.,  ii  knowledge,  merely  acquired,  brought  with  it  the 
power  to  apply  it,  then  we  could  go  on  indefinitely  in- 
flating the  mind  with  varied  learning,  and  thereby  secure 
versatility  ad  infinitum. 

Knowledge  is  valuable  only  as  it  energizes,  or  as  it 
can  be  used;  but  it  energizes,  and  can  be  tinned  to  prac- 
tical account  only  in  proportion  as  it  is  digested  and  as 
similated.  Undigested  knowledge  has  no  relative  util- 
ity, because  it  cannot  be  long  retained  and  even  while  it 
is  remembered  it  is  in  that  confusion  that  renders  it  not 
available,  either  in  the  prosecution  of  other  branches  of 
learning,  or  in  any  of  the  practicalities  of  life.  And  un- 
assim dated  knowledge  has  no  absolute  utility,  because  it 
does  not  nourish  the  mind,  or  increase  its  power  of  iree, 
continued,  and  vigorous  action.  After  knowledge  is  col- 
lected, the  power  of  applying  it  will  come  by  very  slow 
degrees;  and,  in  fact,  will  never  come  until  something 
more  than  mere  elements  is  effectively  learnt.  This  is 
true  of  every  department  of  knowledge:  First,  there  is  a 
lower  stage  in  which  the  student  can  do  little  more  than 
collect;  second,  there  is  a  higher  state  in  which  he  can 
begin  effectively  to  apply  thought  to  his  collected  stores, 
and  thus  acquire  the  power  of  applying  them.  When 
we  consider  the  limited  energies  which  the  human  mind 


374  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

«an  bring  to  bear,  during  the  four  years  of  college  life, 
*ipon  a  curriculum  made  up  of  the  fragments  of  twenty 
•or  thirty  sciences,  and  languages  living  and  dead,  it  is 
•obvious,  that  we  cannot  within  this  period  get  beyond 
the  mere  elements, — will  not  he  able  to  reach  those 
higher  states  (digestion  and  assimilation)  which  give  the 
power  of  applying  these  elements.  With  an  attention 
thus  divided,  by  this  crushing  burden  of  distracting 
studies,  it  is  impossible  to  acquire  that  accuracy  and  orig- 
inality of  thought  which  are  essential  to  the  practical  ap- 
plication of  stored-up  knowledge.  It  is  plain,  therefore, 
that  the  varied  learning  of  the  traditional  system  is  fatal 
So  versatility.  The  "cramming,"  necessarily  involved  in 
completing  the  dolly-varden  curriculum  of  the  tradi- 
tional college,  is  remarkably  successful  in  making  the 
student  conceited  all  the  forenoon  of  life,  and  stupid  all 
Its  afternoon.  Don't  make  the  mind  a  junk, shop.  A 
student  may  have  varied  learning,  and  yet  rank  but  little 
above  an  intellectual  barbarian.  Not  only  do  different 
professions  demand  different  kinds  of  knowledge,  but 
the  different  ranks  of  the  same  profession  require  differ- 
ent grades  of  knowledge.  There  are  things,  which  it  is 
■desirable,  yes  necessary,  for  a  second-class  mind  to 
know,  which  a  fm,t-class  mind  should  be  ashamed  to 
know.  Learning  less  varied  and  more  profound,  is  a 
demand  of  the  age. 

Now,  as  to  the  true  aim  of  American  education  be- 
ing to  evenly  draw  out  the  mental  faculties,  and  develop 
them  all  to  the  same  extent.  There  is  a  fine  ring  in  this 
idea;  but  it  is  a  musical  cheat.  It  sounds  like  the  truth; 
but  it  is  a  lie.  It  has  been  the  deluding,  mis- 
guiding intellectual  will-o'-the-wisp  in  the  realm  of 
the  American  educator  for  more  than  a  century.  And 
the  path  of  pursuit  of  this  delusive  phantom  is  strewn 


LECTURE   OF   rROI<\    LOWEY.  275 

with  the  wrecks  of  thousands  of  intellects.  Its  re- 
actionary effect  has  been  to  bring  down  upon  the 
traditional  college  the  withering  rebvike,  that  its 
education  is  a  synonym  for  "a  misdirection  of  the 
mental  energies."  To  cultivate  fully  and  harmoni- 
ously our  various  faculties,  is  to  bring  them  up  to 
their  full  normal  capacity,  is  simply  to  enable  them  to 
energize  longer  and  stronger  without  painful  effort. 
This  is  accomplished  only  by  a  free  and  untrainmeled 
development  of  these  faculties,  such  as  is  given  by  our 
better  American  universities  with  optional  courses;  and 
not  by  the  planing,  beveling,  sand-papering,  i.  e.  flatten- 
ing out,  processes  of  our  even-development  colleges. 
Any  attempt  at  even-development  is  a  distortion  of  the 
mind's  faculties;  because,  it  involves  either,  a  restraining 
of  some  of  these  faculties  in  their  spontaneous  tendency 
to  action,  or  urging  others  to  a  degree,  or  continuance, 
of  energy  beyond  the  limit  to  which  they  of  themselves 
freely  tend, — a  distortion  which,  by  checking  or  crush- 
ing out  individuality,  violates  the  order  of  nature,  and  is 
hence  subversive  of  the  best  interests  ot  the  individual, 
■society,  and  the  nation, — a  distortion  which  defeats  the 
ends  of  true  culture,  by  rendering  exact  scholarship  im- 
possible and  by  smothering  out  enthusiasm,  and  hence 
balks  every  idea  of  advancement  and  blocks  the  wheels 
of  progressive  civilization.  For,  by  our  very  constitu- 
tion, certain  faculties  predominate  in  each  mind;  that  is, 
each  person  is  born  with  the  germs  of  certain  intellectual 
faculties  of  various  relative  intensities;  and  no  amount  of 
true  culture  can  vary  their  number,  or  will  materially 
change  their  relative  strengths.  And,  hence,  the  divis- 
ion  of  labor  in  the  realm  of  intellect,  is  a  fixed  factor  in 
the  world's  progress.  It  advances  civilization  even  more 
powerfully   than   does   the  well-understood  division   of 


876  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

manual  labor.     And  for  it  there  are  two  great  reasons. 

First,  that  derived  from  the  constitution  of  the 
human  mind. 

Second,  that  from  the  nature  of  truth  itself. 

First,  certain  minds,  having  by  nature  a  preponder- 
ance of  certain  faculties,  are  peculiarly  fitted  for  the  ac- 
quisition of  particular  forms  of  knowledge  and  their  ap- 
plication in  particular  professions.  And  we  find,  not 
only  in  the  school  house  but  through  the  course  of  life, 
each  mind — which  has  sufficient  candor  to  learn  itself 
and  sufficient  individuality  to  obey  its  own  inclinations 
and  tastes — pursuing  studies  in  the  line  of  its  activity.  It 
is  well  it  is  so.  It  greatly  economizes  the  mental  ener- 
gies. For,  by  this  means  all  subjects  are  studied  out  by 
some,  and  the  ivhole  community  is  made  more  wise  than 
they  would  be  if  the  effort  were  made  to  keep  them  all 
abreast  in  the  march  of  intelligence.  But  the  division  of 
mental  labor  is  not  simply  an  economical  factor  in  the 
development  of  national  intelligence,  for,  the  shortness 
of  human  life,  the  limited  energies  of  the  human  mind, 
and  the  vastness  of  the  field  of  knowledge,  render  it 
absolutely  necessary  to  any  progress  at  all.  It  is  only 
the  unprogressive  savage  man  who  attempts  to  play 
fanner,  warrior,  tailor,  cook,  and  merchant  at  once. 

A  second  great  reason,  for  the  division  of  intellec- 
tual labor,  and  for  special  training,  is  found,  as  Dr.  Laws 
has  clearly  shown,  in  the  nature  of  truth  itself:  "All 
truth  is  one  and  harmonious,  accordant  with  nature,  at 
whatever  point  you  take  hold  of  it  with  a  firm  grasp. 
Take  our  position  wherever  we  may  on  the  circle  of 
knowledge,  and  we  find  every  radius  leads  to  one 
common  centre.  Take  hold  of  any  thread  of  truth,  and 
if  we  properly  follow  it  out,  we  will,  within  our 
sphere  of  action,  bring  the  whole  body  of  truth  into 
revelation." 


LECTURE   OF    PROF.    1,0 WRY.  277 

Here  we  might  rest  the  proposition,  that  the  tradi- 
tional system  does  not  give  versatility.  But,  in  order  to 
reach  a  final  decision  as  to  the  relative  merits  of  the  tra- 
ditional and  rational  systems  for  giving  versatility,  let  us 
apply  the  crucial  test:  which  best  prepares  for  the  activ- 
ities of  life,  in  the  order  of  their  importance? 

The  comparative  worth  of  the  different  kinds  of 
knowledge  is  not  clearly  conceived  by  the  public.  Hence, 
our  youth  are  educated  at  random,  under  the  guidance  of 
mere  fashion  or  fancy  or  prejudice.  The  great  question 
in  American  education  is  not  whether  such  or  such 
knowledge  is  of  worth,  but  what  is  its  relative  worth. 
Before  devoting  years  to  some  subject  which  fashion  or 
fancy  may  suggest,  it  is  surely  wise  to  weigh  with  great 
care  the  worth  of  the  results  as  compared  with  the 
worth  of  various  alternative  results  which  the  same 
years  might  bring  if  otherwise  applied.  The  first  thing 
in  deciding  among  the  conflicting  claims,  of  various  sub- 
jects, on  our  attention,  is  to  settle  which  things  it  most 
concerns  us  to  know,  i.  e.,  to  determine  the  relative 
values  of  knowledges.  To  this  end,  a  measure  of  value 
is  the  first  requisite.  Happily  about  this  there  can  be  no 
dispute.  To  prepare  for  complete  living  is  the  true 
function  of  education.  In  directing;  the  energies  of 
youth,  subjects  and  methods  of  instruction  should  be 
chosen  with  deliberate  reference  to  this  end.  Our  first 
step  in  the  solution  of  this  problem,  is  obviously  to  clas- 
sify in  the  order  of  their  importance  the  leading  kinds  of 
activities  which  constitute  human  life.  They  are,  vide 
Spencer:  i.  Those  activities  which  directly  minister  to 
self-preservation;  2.  Those  activities,  which,  by  secur- 
ing the  necessaries  of  life,  indirectly  minister  to  self-pres- 
ervation; 3.  Those  activities  which  have  for  their  end 
the  rearing  and  discipline  of  offspring;     4.  Those  activ- 


278  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 

ities  which  are  involved  in  the  maintainance  of  proper 
social  and  political  relations;  5.  Those  miscellaneous 
activities  which  make  up  the  leisure  part  of  life,  devoted 
to  the  gratification  of  the  tastes  and  feelings.  It  is  clear 
that  these  divisions  of  our  activities  subordinate  one 
another  in  the  foregoing  order,  because  the  correspond- 
ing divisions  of  life  make  one  another  possible  only  in 
that  order.  And  the  educations  which  prepare  for  these 
activities,  should  subordinate  one  another  in  the  same 
order  of  decreasing  importance:  1.  That  education 
which  prepares  for  direct  self-preservation;  2.  That 
which  prepares  for  self-maintenance;  3.  That  which 
prepares  for  parenthood;  4.  That  which  prepares  for 
citizenship;  5.  That  which  prepares  lor  the  miscellane- 
ous activities  of  life.  The  ideal  of  education  is — com- 
plete preparation  in  all  these  divisions.  But  failing  in 
this  ideal,  as  every  one  must,  we  should  maintain  a  due 
proportion  between  the  degrees  of  preparation  in  each. 
Let  the  attention  be  greatest  where  the  value  is  greatest, 
less  where  the  value  is  less,  least  where  the  value  is 
least.  The  crucial  test  of  the  relative  educational 
worths  of  the  sciences  and  arts,  is  their  bearing  on  these 
activities  of  life.  Instinct  wards  off  the  sudden  annihila- 
tion of  life,  and  slow  annihilation  is  retarded  by  obeying 
our  sensations,  and  the  teachings  of  physiology,  the 
second  division  of  our  activities,  is  fostered  by  the  nat- 
ural sciences  and  the  industrial  arts;  while  physiology 
and  psychology  are  the  best  preparatives  for  parenthood;, 
history  and  descriptive  sociology  are  the  keys  to  intelli- 
gent citizenship;  and  those  accomplishments,  the  classics 
and  the  tine  arts,  which  are  the  efflorescence  of  civili- 
zation, should  obviously  be  wholly  subordinated  to  that 
scientific  knowledge  and  discipline  in  which  civilization 
rests;  and  as  they  occupy  the  leisure  part  of  life,  so- 
should  they  occupy  the  leisure  part  of  education. 


J.BCTURK   OF   PKOF.    LOWRY.  27b 

A  simple  inspection  of  these  two  curricula  show* 
that  the  rational  one,  both  in  the  choice  of,  and  in  the 
arrangement  of,  its  subjects  best  prepares  for  these  activi- 
ties of  life;  because,  it  fosters  these  activities  in  the  ordei? 
of  their  importance.  A  trial  by  the  above  standard 
works  disaster  to  the  curriculum  of  the  traditional  col- 
lege. It  discloses  its  impotence  for  fostering  life's  activ- 
ities, and  thus  reveals  the  cause  of  its  disastrous  effects 
on  our  civilization.  This  system  has  not  only  erred  in 
the  choice  of  its  subjects,  but  its  arrangement  of  them  is. 
most  illogical.  By  dismissing  the  natural  sciences  and 
the  exact,  and  the  other  useful  arts  with  a  minimum 
amount  of  attention,  it  has  failed  to  meet  efficiently  the- 
different  requirements  of  modern  society.  And  by 
placing  these  natural  sciences  at  the  top  of  its  curriculum 
and  the  abstract  sciences  at  its  bottom,  it  has  got  the 
pdnciples  of  architecture  quite  reversed,  turned  up  side 
down;  has  got  the  cart  before  the  horse;  has  thrown 
the  parts  of  its  curriculum  all  out  of  joint. 

The  traditional  college  is  of  English  parentage  and 
model.  Our  politics  threaten  England,  and  her  educa- 
tions threaten  us.  Directly  traceable  to  the  influence  of 
England  on  our  educations,  home  and  college,  are  the 
three  great  evils  which  now  afflict  our  institutions  ami 
intensify  our  social  distresses.  There  is  a  defect  in  our 
system  of  domestic  training;  a  mistake  in  our  method  of 
college  education ;  and  a  blunder  in  our  system  of  uni- 
versity training.  Parents  fail  to  bring  up  their  children 
to  be  self-reliant  and  independent;  colleges  fail  to  edu- 
cate them  in  the  lines  of  their  mental  activities;  and  uni- 
versities fail  to  train  them  up  to  useful  trades  and  profes- 
sions. And  hence  when  the  invention  of  a  new  machine 
or  the  pressure  of  hard  times,  forces  them  out  of  their 
accustomed  employment,  with  weak  power  of  indepen- 


280  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

dent  thought,  ana  hence  nc  power  of  adaptation,  they 
degenerate  into  vagabonds  and  tramps, — idlers  in  a  land 
of  work,  starving  in  a  land  of  plenty.  What  America 
needs  is  a  generation  of  young  men  more  thoughtful  and 
more  practical;  so  that  if  cosscd  ever  so  high  they  will, 
cat-like,  alight  on  their  feet.  Now,  what  forces  put  to 
work  will  trot  such  young  men  out  upon  the  stacre  of 
action?  The  cause  of  the  evil  once  clearly  defined  will 
suggest  its  own  remedy.  Our  traditional  universities 
and  colleges  have  ever,  with  an  encouraging  pat  on  the 
head,  said  "now  boys  spread  yourselves."  Inflation  has 
been  the  order  of  the  century  in  education,  as  it  is  now 
the  order  of  the  day  in  our  currency.  Now  note,  if  you 
please,  what  this  has  begotten  in  the  restlessly  active 
American  mind :  A  bolting  down,  without  mastication, 
of  itsscientific  and  literary  food,  with  its  legitimate  con- 
sequence— indigestion.  And  to-day,  we  are  a  nation  of 
mental  dyspeptics,  suffering  with  scientific  and  literary 
indigestion.  These  universities  and  colleges,  of  a  de- 
cade ago,  had  degenerated  into  patent  machines  for  ■ 
turning  out  that  pitiable  class  of  human  minds  commonly 
known  as  jacks-of-all-trades — masters  of  none.  Their 
educations  had  gone  on  diverging  from  the  practical 
affairs  of  life  until  they  had  gotten  out  of  joint  with  the 
times.  They  had  not  kept  up  with  the  changing  condi- 
tions and  requirements  of  society;  and  had  hence  fallen 
in  the  rear  of  our  civilization  and  become  drawbacks  to 
improvement  instead  of  promoters  of  progress.  The 
march  of  science,  the  march  of  intellect,  and  the  march 
of  civilization  are  inseperable  concomitants,  but  the  part 
played  by  the  classics,  in  this  march  too  often  reminds  us 
of  Dick  Dead-Eye  in  Pinafore. 

The  typical  traditional  "college  has  been  a  place  where  a  pre- 
scribed   course    of  study,    largely    devoted    to    Greek,    Latin   and 


J.KCTURE   OF   PROF.    I.OWKY.  281 

Mathematics,  with  a  brief  introduction  to  historical,  political  and 
ethical  sciences,  has  continued  during  four  years,  and  led  to  a 
bachelor's  degree.  Daily  recitations,  and  residence  within  the 
college  wails  have  been  maintained.  One  of  the  first  innovations 
was  made  when  the  University  of  Virginia  allowed  its  scholars  to 
elect  their  own  courses,  gave  prominence  to  examinations,  and 
laid  no  stress  on  the  system  of  four  year  classes.  Nearly  a  quar- 
ter of  a  century  later  Cornell  University  sprung  at  once  into 
great  prominence,  .by  the  freedom  with  which  it  threw  off  tradi- 
tional fetters,  allowing  great  freedom  of  choice  of  study,  introduc- 
ing abundant  means  of  illustration  and  practical  laboratories,  en- 
gaging non-resident  professors  of  distinction  to  supplement  the 
ordinary  teachers,  and  favoring  technical  instruction  in  the  useful 
arts  as  well  as  general  instruction  in  the  liberal  arts.  And 
threatened,  as  they  were,  with  annihilation  by  an  advancing  civil- 
eation,  Yale,  Brown,  Rutgers,  Dartmouth,  Princeton  and  other 
of  the  older  traditional  colleges  patched  up  their  old  curricula 
with  new  courses  in  the  modern  sciences." 

And  of  those  traditional  colleges  which  have,  from 
inability  or  unwillingness,  failed  to  modify  their  courses  to 
meet  the  changed  conditions  and  requirements  of  society, 
all  are  feeble  and  struggling  for  continued  existence. 
And,  as  one  by  one,  they  expire,  in  the  mortal  throes  of 
agonizing  death,  we  hear  them  cry,  "the  universities  and 
professional  schools  killed  us."  But  this  is  not  true. 
Their's  is  the  death  of  the  suicide.  They  die  of  anaemia. 
It  is  the  province  of  the  American  college  to  furnish  the 
kind  of  education  which  the  American  youth  of  this  age 
requires  and  demands.  They  either  misconceive  their 
work,  or  ignore  public  opinion,  and  their  fate  is  inevita- 
ble. They  disregard  the  fact,  that  obedience  to  the 
voice  of  the  people  is  the  sine  quo  nou,  the  requisite  in- 
dispensible,  of  the  life  of  an  American  college;  and 
public  patronage,  their  life-giving  sap,  is  withdrawn, 
and,  year  by  year,  they  drop  withered  blooms  from 
the  tree  of  American  education. 

"But  by  far  the  boldest  innovations  which  have  been  made  in 


282  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI. 

any  traditional  college,  are  those  inaugurated  at  Harvard  under 
the  administration  of  President  Eliot.  The  interior  working  of 
that  institution  has  been  remodeled,  and  great  freedom  of 
choice  (extending  to  the  modern  departments  of  science,  as 
well  as  to  literature,  history  and  philosophy)  is  now  permitted  to 
every  student,  with  results  which  appear  to  have  dissipated  nearly 
all  doubts  as  to  the  wisdom  of  the  plan,  and  to  have  attracted  in- 
creasing numbers  of  students."  « 

The  State  Universities  of  the  West — the  more 
prominent  of  which  arc,  Michigan,  Missouri,  Wiscon- 
sin, California,  Iowa,  and  Minnesota — were  created  to 
meet  the  demands  of  Western  American  civilization; 
and,  embody,  in  the  main,  the  features  of  Virginia  and 
Cornell  Universities.  They  are  the  great  nurseries  of 
the  productive  industries  of  our  country. 

These  modifications  of  the  American  colleges  are 
likely  to  he  attended  with  the  hest  results,  for  they 
accord  with  the  best  experience  of  other  countries. 
It  is  the  pressure  of  public  opinion,  the  direct  in- 
terference of  the  will  of  the  people,  that  is  remodel- 
ing our  universities,  by  giving  the  necessary  free 
scope  to  useiul  science  and  ingrafting  the  utilitarian  into 
their  curricula;  and  thus,  making  them  correspond  at 
once  to  the  spirit  of  our  Republic  and  the  wants  of  the 
people  at  large.  For  emphatic  evidence  of  this,  look  at 
their  courses  of  study ;  the  classics  and  the  pure  mathe- 
matics no  longer  monopolize  all  the  student's  time 
or  the  university's  prizes  and  honors.  Their  courses 
now  bristle  with  life  and  living  science.  And  as  on 
earnest  of  the  thoroughness  of  the  reformation  and  an 
assurance  that  the  good  work  will  go  bravely  on,  look 
at  the  character  of  the  minds  which  have  been  called  to 
the  presidential  chairs  of  the  great  universities  of  our 
land.  From  a  contemplation  of  these  minds  :i  whole- 
some lesson  may  be  learned  of  the  tendencies  of  Amer- 


I.EOTUKK   OF    PKOF.    I.OWRY.  28S 

ican  thought  and  of  the  enlightenment  and  health  "of 
this  reformation.  Who  are  they?  Look  at  them,  from 
Maine  to  Texas,  from  Maryland  to  California,  and 
answer,  whether  they  are  exponents  of  exploded  creeds, 
back-feeling  crabs,  or  worshipers  of  the  dry  bones  of 
antiquity?  No;  they  are  possessed  of  the  dread  respon- 
sibilities of  the  present.  Do  they  flaunt  in  your  faces 
thread-bare  thoughts  in  languages  dead  and  half  forgot- 
ten? Their's  is  a  nobler  work.  In  the  majesty  of  out- 
mother  tongue,  they  give  us  thoughts  that  breathe  in 
words  that  burn.  Why  is  it,  that  Eliot  is  at  Harvard; 
White  at  Cornell;  Bascom  at  Indiana  University;  Laws 
at  Missouri  University;  Oilman  at  John  Hopkins;  and 
Leconte  at  California  University  ?  Not  simply  because 
they  are  walking  cyclopaedias  of  classical  lore,  but  rather 
because  they  are  men  full  of  live  science  and  well  up  to 
the  age. 

The  Missouri  University  of  to-day  and  the  one  of 
past  days,  are  radically  different  institutions.  The  time 
was,  when  it  was  a  mere  college  for  higher  general  cul- 
ture; it  is  now  a  university  in  the  true,  i.  e.,  the  Ameri- 
can acceptation  of  the  term.  Formerly  higher  educa- 
tion in  this  university  was  up  in  the  clouds.  Franklin 
proved  the  identity  of  the  lightning  of  the  clouds  and 
the  electricity  of  the  laboratory;  and  Rollins,  with 
other  far-seeing  Curators,  and  Read  and  Laws  proved 
to  Missouri  the  identity  of  the  electric  energy  of  the 
higher  education  with  the  energy  of  the  useful  profes- 
sions. In  their  hands  the  professional  schools  of  medi- 
cine, law,  agriculture,  pedagogics, and  engineering,  have 
been  the  kite,  the  string,  and  the  key,  with  which  the 
electric  energy  of  higher  academic  culture,  has  been 
conducted  silently  and  effectively  down;  and  vigorous 
life  thereby  infused   into  the  useful  professions.     Under 


284  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

their  management  higher  education  in  this  university  is 
striking  roots  in  the  useful  professions  of  e very-day  life: 
— It  is  raising  the  standard  of  medical  education;  it  is  re- 
deeming the  bar  from  the  imputations  of  ignorance,  so 
justly  heaped  upon  it;  it  is  increasing  Missouri's  power 
of  production,  while  preventing  the  exhaustion  of  her 
soil,  by  teaching  her  farmers  economic  agriculture;  it  is 
improving  her  system  of  public  education,  by  recruiting 
the  ranks  of  her  ten  thousand  district  school  teachers, 
with  the  flower  of  her  youth;  it  is  spreading  the  knowl- 
edge of  engineering,  and  thereby  utilizing  and  husband- 
ing her  vast  material  wealth,  and  providing,  by  the  im- 
provement of  her  great  watery  highways,  cheap  trans- 
portation for  her  surplus  products;  and  lastly  it  is 
strengthening  the  bulwarks  of  national  liberty,  by  dif- 
fusing a  knowledge  of  the  arts  of  war  among  her  cit- 
izens. This  university  is  being  redeemed  from  appa- 
rent remoteness  and  intangibleness,  by  bringing  it  into 
articulate  connection,  below,  with  the  high  schools,  acad- 
emies and  private  colleges  of  the  state,  and  above,  with 
the  useful  and  glorious  professions  and  the  great  scientific 
services  of  the  state  and  nation.  It  thus  becomes,  not 
only  the  crowning  glory  of  the  state  system  of  educa- 
tion, but  also,  the  gymnasium  in  which  are  trained;  first, 
not  accomplished  drones,  but  active,  live  men,  with 
brains  and  muscles  capacitated  for  intelligent  productive- 
ness in  our  four  great  industries;  and  second,  those 
minds  and  hands  which  will  perforce  assist  in  purifying 
and  chastening  the  public  mind  in  the  fine  arts,  in  plan- 
ning and  constructing  those  great  engineering  opera- 
tions and  works  of  state  and  national  importance,  and  in 
constructing  the  maps  of  the  American  continent,  topo- 
graphical, geological  and  agricultural. 

There  are  moments  in   the   life  of  a  man  when   hig 


LECTURE   OF    PROF.    LOWKY.  285 

destiny  stands  trembling  in  the  balance — choosing'  a  pro- 
fession is  such  a  moment  in  the  life  of  a  young  man. 
Upon  this  choice  many  a  promising  youth  "strands  his 
bark,  and  the  rest  of  the  voyage  of  life  is  bound  up  in 
shallows  and  miseries."  I  must  beg  the  attention  of 
young  men,  who  have  not  chosen  a  profession  to  the  fol- 
lowing: Hie  Jield  of  labor  before  the  young  engineer 
is  broad  and  the  reward  is  bountiful.  We,  in  Missouri, 
are  particularly  blessed  in  having  those  broad-backed,  un- 
tiring commercial  carriers,  the  Missouri  and  Mississippi, 
flowing  by  our  doors,  and  beckoning  us  to  load  on  our 
gurplus  products,  and  they  will  carry  them  out  on  the 
world's  highway  tree  of  charge.  Nature  has  given  us 
these  noble  rivers — the  government  recognizes  it  her 
right  and  duty  to  survey  and  improve  these  great  com- 
mercial highways — and  the  Missouri  University  recog- 
nizes it  a  duty,  which  she  owes  the  nation,  owes  the  ag- 
ricultural, mining,  manufacturing  and  commercial  inter- 
ests of  this  state,  owes  the  young  men  of  this  state,  who 
have  natural  engineering  ability,  to  provide  departments 
for  a  diffusion  of  a  knowledge  of  engineering  arts  and 
sciences — so  that  these  young  men  may  assist  in  survey- 
ing these  rivers  and  solving  those  great  problems  of  hy- 
draulic engineering  of  state  and  national  importance — 
solutions  which  will  enable  us  to  utilize  that  immense — 
now  wasted — energy,  "gravity,"  and  thereby  secure  that 
great  desideratum  of  the  west,  "cheap  transportation." 

And,  besides,  we  have  old  roads  to  improve  and 
new  roads  and  bridges  to  build,  and  on  them  yearly  ex- 
pend untold  thousands.  Yet,  it  is  a  painful  but  patent 
truth  that  nine-tenths  o(  the  coui  ty  surveyors  of  the 
state  cannot,  from  sheer  ignorance  of  the  engineering 
arts,  lay  out  and  construct  a  road  between  two  distant 
points  on   the   shortest   and    cheapest   route.     Over   our 


1286  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

creeks  and  small  rivers  we  yearly  see  bridges  built  which 
fall  by  their  own  weight.  A  knowledge  of  the  first 
principles  of  strains  and  strength  of  materials  would 
preclude  the  possibility  of  such  humiliating  catastrophes. 

We  have  also  forests  to  be  utilized  and  marketed, 
and  immense  hidden  mineral  wealth  of  coal,  iron,  lead, 
&c,  to  be  developed  and  mined.  And  who  but  the 
competent  engineer  can  do  this  economically  and  suc- 
cessfully ?  The  United  States  government  has  under 
■way  surveys  and  improvements  which  it  will  take  half 
a  century  to  complete.  She  has  now  in  progress  trigo- 
nometrical, topographical,  geological  and  magnetic  sur- 
veys of  her  territories,  and  trigonometrical,  topographical 
and  hydrographic  surveys — and  improvements — of  her 
rivers,  coasts,  and  bays  and  great  lakes;  and  on  these  she 
wants  your  surveying  and  engineering  skill.  Many 
of  the  states  have  underway  trigonometrical,  topograph- 
ical, geological  and  agricultural  surveys;  and  the  in- 
auguration, in  the  near  future,  of  these  surveys  in  the 
state  of  Missouri  is  clearly  foreshadowed,  demanded  as 
they  are  by  the  multiplied  wants  of  an  advanced  civili- 
zation. 

The  above  surveys  and  improvements  are  now  go- 
ing forward  and  very  few  of  the  young  men  of  Missouri 
are  taking  part  in  them.  Like  "the  foolish  virgins," 
they  are  caught  without  oil  in  their  lamps,  without  spec- 
ial fitness  for  the  work  by  previous  study  and  training, 
and  are  hence  forced  to  sit  quietly  by  and  see  surveyors 
and  engineers  brought  from  Germany,  England  and  the 
eastern  states  to  survey  and  to  improve  our  numerous 
rivers  and  survey  and  map  our  state  and  national 
domain.  The  young  men  of  Missouri  are  allowing 
golden  opportunities  to  glide  by  them.  It  is  no  fault  of 
the  United  States  government  that  there  are  not  scores 


LECTURE   OF    PROF.   LOWBY.  287 

of  Missouri's  sons  now  enjoying  high,  honorable  and  lu- 
crative positions  in  the  great  scientific  services  and  sur- 
veys of  the  nation.  She  stands  ready  to  employ  the 
competent.  All!  the  heart  grows  faint  and  Mck  to  see 
the  amount  of  natural — but  undeveloped — engineering 
ability  which  goes  out  from  our  universities  and  colleges 
yearly  and  wastes  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  air. 

Foreign  nations  are  anxious  to  employ  you.  Are 
not  American  surveyors  and  engineers  now  in  the  high- 
est offices  in  the  Japanese  coast  survey?  Are  not  Amer- 
ican generals  and  engineers  heading  the  army  of  the 
khedive  of  Eypt?  Are  not  American  astronomers  and 
engineers  building1  the  railroads  and  manning  the  obser- 
vatorics  of  the  South  American  republics?  Yes  Amer- 
ican surveying,  astronomical  and  engineering  talents 
command  a  premium  in  foreign  markets.  There  are,  in 
the  American — and  especially  the  Western  American — 
minds  a  fertility  of  resources,  a  power  of  adapting  means 
to  ends,  and  an  acuteness  of  perception  which  peculiarly 
fit  them  for  observers,  planners  and  executors  in  the  sur- 
veying and  engineering  arts,  which  make  them  emphat- 
ically the  best  astronomers,  surveyors,  and  engineers  in 
the  world.  Make  yourselves  thorough  in  the  theory, 
and  expert  in  the  practice  of  either  astronomy,  geodesy 
hydrographic  surveying,  civil  engineering,  or  topograph- 
ical surveying  and  you  will  not  have  to  hunt  positions; 
for,  positions  hunt  such  men  as  these.  The  world  is  wait- 
ing for  these  men. 

To  enable  young  men  of  Missouri  to  prepare  them- 
selves for  labor  in  these  inviting  fields,  the  Missouri  Uni- 
versity established  an  Engineering  Department  which 
is  in  successful  and  growing  operation.  The  courses 
are:  I.  Civil  engineering.  II.  Topographical  engi- 
neering. III.  Military  engineering.  IV.  Surveying, 
Each  leading  to  its  appropriate  degree  (and  diploma). 


288  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

The  course  in  civil  engineering  is  designed  for  those  who 
wish  to  make  either  road  and  railroad  engineering,  bridge  con- 
struction, or  river  improvement,  a  specialty.  The  course  in  topo- 
graphical engineering  is  arranged  for  those  who  find  distasteful 
the  higher  analytical  mathematics,  and  who  show  instead  special 
aptitude  for  the  surveys  and  improvements  of  rivers,  lakes  and 
coasts.  The  course  in  surveying  fits  young  men  for  navigation, 
practical  astronomy  and  the  United  States  government  trigono- 
metrical, topographical,  geological,  magnetic,  coast  and  river  sur- 
veys, all  of  which  are  now  under  way.  The  course  in  military 
engineering  is  essentially  that  of  the  United  States  military  acad- 
emy at  West  Point.  This  department  now  offers  a  complete  the- 
oretical and  practical  treatment  of  these  great  subdivisions  of  en- 
gineering and  surveying.  Its  design  being  to  turn  out  practical 
surveyors  and  engineers,  a  practical  application,  in  the  field, 
of  every  theory  is  required.  Active  efforts  are  made  to  secure 
the  surveying  and  engineering  graduates  positions,  and  with  grati- 
fying success;  a  number  of  them  are  employed  on  the  work  of  the 
U.  S.  A.  engineer  corps. 

Why  is  it  that  the  large  majority  of  our  educated 

young  men  can't  support  themselves?  are  either,  relying 
upon  "fathers"  to  take  care  of  them,  or,  as  Dr.  P.  Yea- 
man  expresses  it,  "are  anxious  to  become  apron-string 
pensioners;"  would  starve  if  tossed  into  the  world  and 
forced  to  take  care  of  themselves!  Is  it  not  the  "glorious 
inutility"  of  the  education  which  our  sd-called  colleges 
give  them?  The  great  majority  of  our  colleges  pro- 
vides the  people  with  only  limited  elementary  and  vague 
theoretical  instruction,  totally  insufficient  for  the  mechan- 
ical uses  of  every  day  life;  and  thus  utterly  fails  to  stir  up, 
to  stimulate  the  intellect,  to  develop  and  make  it  suscep- 
tible of  higher  impulses.  Among  the  immense  major- 
ity of  American  students,  a  kind  of  mental  collapse  fol- 
lows the  sparse  instruction  received  in  these  colleges. 
This  faulty  course  of  education  generates  stagnation, 
checks  or  crushes  out  the  civilizatory  spontaneity  of  the 
masses.      The   chronic    indifference   thus    produced    in 


LFCTURE   OF   PROF.    LOWRY.  289 

the  masses,  to  any  instruction  beyond  the  coarse  rudi- 
ments, has  resulted  in  long  protracted  and  various  social, 
political,  and  governmental  depressions.  It  has  done 
more:  flooded  our  nation  with  non-producers, — drones 
in  the  hive  of  humanity;  and  filled  our  land  with  tramps 
and  crime.  Now  let  this  brood  of  parasites  (viz.:  coun- 
terfeiters, lottery  operators,  confidence  men,  corrupt  leg- 
islators, batterers  in  justice,  and  thousands  oi  other  call- 
ings more  despicable  than  the  lowest  activity  in  the 
scale  of  honest  labor)  hang  on  to  American  society,  and 
multiply,  for  another  decade, — let  crime  continue  another 
ten  years  at  fever  heat — let  red-handed  communism  strike 
down  the  rights  of  property,  and  then  indeed,  will  we 
see  American  Liberty  go  out  like  a  blazing  comet  in  a 
sea  of  blood. 

The  best  methods  and  systems  will,  however,  be 
inefficient  until  the  spirit  shall  awaken  and  stimulate  the 
man  from  within.  That,  and  only  that,  has  a  healthy 
growth  which  grows  by  itself,  bv  its  own  vitality.  Give 
the  mind  an  insight  into  the  applied  sciences  and  you 
imbue  it  with  a  life-long  enthusiasm.  The  outer  or 
merely  theoretical  circle  of  applied  science  is  the  dead- 
line of  intellectual  progress.  Fall  short  of  it  and  your 
life  is  a  failure,  fall  within  it  and  success  is  yours.  It  is 
here  that  God  has  wrought  his  wonders  to  perform, — it 
is  here  that  are  found  the  mainsprings  ol  the  world's 
progressive  civilization.  Now  our  traditional  colleges 
have  ever  pushed  the  applied  sciences  into  the  hack- 
ground,  utterly  oblivious  of,  or  ignoring,  the  fact  that  the 
application  of  the  sciences,  in  the  exact  an. I  the  industrial 
arts,  completes  genuine  American  civilization, — t'i.Kcs  the 
material  and  social  prosperity  of  the  whole  country. 
American  civilization  i^  the  result  of  brin  Mil,'  the  united 
exerli  >ns  oi"  science  and  industry  to  a  direct  and  constant 


290  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 

bearing  on  the  requirements  of  the  millions.  Every  in- 
dustrial pursuit  is  a  science  in  itself,  and,  to  become 
really  productive,  ought  to  be  carried  out  scientifically. 
Unfortunately,  the  science  which  we  learn  at  college,  is 
too  apt  to  be  left  at  college.  Take  it  home  with  you; 
carry  it  about  with  you,  and  apply  it  every  day. 

"That  son  is  not  truly  educated  who  cannot  grow  more  corn 
on  the  acre  than  his  unlearned  father,  and  grow  it  with  less  labor. 
That  educated  daughter  has  received  a  mistaken  and  superficial 
training,  if  she  cannot  excel  her  mother  in  making  soap,  or 
cheese,  or  butter.  All  these  are  chemical  processes,  in  which  her 
education  should  render  her  an  adept  far  beyond  any  untaught 
person.  That  educated  horticulturist,  whose  garden  is  not  better, 
and  whose  fruit  trees  are  not  more  thrifty  and  productive  than  his 
illiterate  neighbor's,  sadly  discredits  and  damages  the  cause  of 
education." 

When  I  address  myself  to  the  young  men  who  are 
preparing  themselves  for  that  profession,  the  most  glori- 
ous of  earth,  the  ministry.  Ah!  here,  I  touch  upon 
sacred  ground.  Stepping  from  the  lecture  room,  where 
you  learn  to  read  the  book  of  nature,  into  the  pulpit  you 
step  from  the  grand  to  the  sublime!  The  knowledge 
you  have  of  nature  must  not  be  a  vague  indefinite 
knowledge  that  in  all  creation  there  is  wisdom;  but 
rather  a  conscious  knowledge, — a  glowing,  intelligent, 
burning  conviction  of  the  wisdom  of  the  structure  of 
the  universe.  It  will  not  do  for  you  to  have  simply  a 
hear-say  knowledge  that  the  bee  constructs  its  cell  in  a 
geometrical  figure  the  strongest  and  most  economical  of 
space  and  material;  that  the  wheat  stalk  is  fashioned 
into  the  shape  the  strongest  possible  with  the  given 
amount  of  material;  that  the  hawk  in  his  swoop  for  a 
chicken  describes  a  cycloid,  the  curve  of  swiftest  possible 
descent;  that  a  ray  of  reflected  light  traverses  the  short- 
est possible  path;  that  God   employed   but   three   curves 


I.ECTURR   OF   PROF.   LOWRY.  291 

in  the  mechanism 'of  the  heavens,  the  cllip.se,  the  parab- 
ola, and  the  hyperbola.  Let  your  conviction  of  such  of 
nature's  truths  flow  from  a  conscious  knowledge,  a 
power  to  prove  them,  and  then  indeed  will  you  be  able 
to  send  the  conviction  home  that  the  earth,  the  air  and 
all  therein  proclaim,  and  the  heavens  bear  witness  of  a 
transcendently  intelligent  first  cause.  Having  traversed 
the  road  yourself,  you  can  lead  the  doubting  up  through 
nature  to  nature's  God.  You  say  you  will  not  study  the 
open  book  of  nature.  A  great,  a  fatal  mistake!  You 
ignore  the  design  of  God.  He  has  given  you  two  books 
of  revelation — His  word  and  His  works.  The  refor- 
mation remains  but  half  completed  till  to  the  free  and 
intelligent  reading  of  the  imprinted  book,  is  added  the 
intelligent  reading  of  the  impressed  book,  the  book  of 
nature.  Reading  the  book  of  nature  is  not  a  mere 
matter  of  choice — it  is  imperative!  The  health  and  life 
of  our  physical  organism  depend  upon  it.  Is  not  the 
edible  mushroom  planted  by  the  poisonous  toadstool? 
and  the  luscious  grape  hung  by  the  deadly  berry?  Some 
Botany,  it  is  obvious,  must  be  learned.  And  electricity 
the  world's  subtile  nerve  force,  will  pulsate  a  maiden's 
whisper  under  oceans  and  across  continents  when 
handled  with  intelligent  care;  but  handle  it  with  careless 
ignorance  and  see  how  quickly  it  will  shock  you!  yes, 
shatter  every  bone  in  your  body.  And  steam  is  a  harm- 
less, docile  slave  in  an  intelligent  hand,  but  a  rebellious 
fury  in  the  hand  of  ignorance.  But  do  you  say  you  will 
learn  enough  of  these  sciences  to  preserve  life  and 
health,  and  no  more?  You  then  discard  the  second 
book  of  revelation,  teeming  with  the  grandest  intelli- 
gence, power,  and  wisdom  of  the  first  great  cause.  You 
forget  what  relation  you  sustain  to  the  government  of 
God.     You  stand  as   the   interpreters  of  His  words  and 


292  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI. 

•works.  Ah  then,  how  can  you  look  upon  the  face  of 
nature,  without  blushing  for  your  ignorance  of  the 
beauty,  harmony,  intelligence,  and  power  there  dis- 
played? Send  your  spirit  forth  through  the  works  of 
God,  and  it  will  catch  an  inspiration  which  will  make 
your  very  thoughts  syllogisms,  your  every  utterance  con- 
viction. The  Author  of  the  universe  has  so  intended. 
The  days  of  miracles  are  past.  Those  inspired  directly 
from  heaven  are  no  more.  The  word  and  works  of 
God  are  the  fountains  of  inspiration  of  His  interpreters 
in  this  day  and  age.  The  christian  religion  is  not  a 
mere  thing  of  fancy  of  disappointed  old  maids,  love-sick 
bachelors,  silly  old  women,  or  half-witted  old  men.  It 
has  a  deep  under  current  of  pure  philosophy  and  reason 
which  challenges  the  study,  the  wonder  and  admiration 
of  the  wisest  and  brightest  of  earth.  It  is  applied 
science  which  enables  us  to  draw  aside  the  veil  from  the 
face  of  nature,  and  view  in  its  grand  simplicity,  the 
order,  harmony,  and  wonderful  economy  of  force  and 
material  which  the  Architect  of  the  universe  has  set 
forth  in  his  works.  How  few,  oh  very  few!  of  the  young 
ministers  of  the  Gospel  ever  lift  the  veil  of  this  inner 
temple  of  God's  works — who  ever  enter  this  holy  of 
holies  of  the  material  universe. 

"The  true  work  of  the  educator  is  to  act  the  part  of 
gleaner.  The  best  schools  and  educational  facilities  of 
to-day  are  certain  short  hand  processes  to  help  the  stu- 
dent in  gleaning  the  field  of  knowledge  and  selecting  a 
specialty."  The  true  work  of  the  teacher  being  to 
glean  the  field  ol  knowledge,  he  must  possess  the  power 
of  analyzing,  that  is,  explaining  the  reason,  use,  and 
connection  of  every  part  ol  the  subject.  Mere  book 
learning  in  the  applied  sciences  is  a  sham  and  a  delusion. 
What  the   teacher  here  teaches,  unless   he  wishes   to  be 


liECTURE   OF   PROF.   LOWRY.  293 

an  impostor,  thnt  he  must  first  know;  and  real  knowl- 
edge in  the  applied  sciences  means  a  personal  acquain- 
tance with  the  facts,  a  conscious  knowledge  of  the  sub- 
ject. He  must  have  the  rationale  of  his  subject,  so  that 
he  can  carry  to  the  waiting  mind  a  conviction  of  its 
truth,  and  connect  that  truth  with  the  duties  of  life. 
That  teacher  of  any  one  of  the  Exact  Arts  is  a  success 
or  a  failure  in  proportion  to  his  ability  of  ferreting  out, 
and  holding  up  to  inspection,  that  central  thread  of  com- 
mon sense  on  which  the  pearls  of  analytical  research  are 
invariably  found  strung.  For  until  the  teacher  Joes 
this,  his  own  spirit  is  not  illumined,  and  hence  he  cannot 
come  before  his  class  with  his  mind  all  ablaze,  shedding 
living  light  on  his  subject.  And  to  acquire  the  good 
will-  of  his  pupils  it  is  not  necessary  that  he  shall  be  a 
fawning  sycophant,  cowering  for  a  smile.  There  is  that 
which  is  far  more  potent:  a  hearty,  open,  up  and  down 
enthusiasm  for  the  subject  of  his  teaching.  We  have, 
in  the  career  of  every  live  teacher,  a  forcible  illustration 
of  this  idea,  and  a  living  testimony  of  the  patent  truth  in 
the  saying  of  Josh  Billings,  that,  "a  live  man  in  a  Uni- 
versity is  like  the  itch  in  a  district  school — puts  every- 
body to  scratching.'* 

Force  of  character  in  a  teacher,  is  no  less  important 
than  this  enthusiasm.  'Tis  spirit  that  responds  to  spirit, 
mind  that  acts  on  mind,  character  that  impresses  char- 
acter, hence,  it  is  disastrous  to  subject  the  plastic  mind  of 
youth  to  the  influence,  the  tuition  of  a  mind  without 
force  of  character.  To  breathe  the  atmosphere  of  such 
a  mind  is  contamination,  to  touch  it  is  disease,  and  long 
contact  with  it,  is  intellectual  death. 

That  the  student  possess  enthusiasm,  is  not  enough. 
It  must  be  a  healthy  enthusiasm.  An  enthusiasm  for  a 
profession  which  he  can  master — an  ambition  to   accom- 


294  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 

plish  that  which  is  within  his  reach.  To  attempt  more, 
or  aim  higher,  is  spending  your  strength  beating  the 
winds.  Don't  shoot  at  the  stars.  Let's  first  measure  our 
strength,  then  aim  at  a  mark  the  highest,  which  we  have 
a  reasonable  hope  of  attaining,  ever  hearing  in  mind  that 
we  Americans  are  prone  to  overestimate  our  mental 
powers  and  physical  endurance.  We  all  imagine  we 
are  born  either  for  the  Court  of  St.  James,  the  halls  of 
Congress  or  the  White  House.  Missouri  is  full  of 
young  men  who  have  their  eyes  on  marks  which,  if 
they  would  but  measure  their  mental  calibers,  they 
would  see  there  is  not  a  ghost  of  a  chance  of  their  ever 
attaining.  "O  wud  some  power  the  giftie  gae  us,  to  see 
ourselves  as  ithers  see  us."  Do  I  hear  the  objection  that 
perhaps  hidden  powers  of  mind  are  possessed?  Don't 
deceive  yourselves,  young  gentlemen.  If  you  have  the 
promethean  spark  within,  you  are  conscious  of  it, — just 
as  conscious  as  you  are  of  the  muscular  strength  of  your 
arm. 

To  the  idea  that  every  American  is  a  born  lawyer, 
doctor,  orator,  or  statesman,  and  the  consequent  rushing 
into  the  glorious  professions,  as  they  are  called,  law, 
medicine,  and  politics,  is  due  the  failure  of  so  many. 
Those  minds  and  hands  which  the  nation  needs,  and 
whose  exertions  will  be  paid  and  applauded,  are  not  the 
plodders  in  the  lower  walks  of  the  glorious  professions; 
but  instead,  those  brains  and  muscles  which  have  the 
faculty,  habit,  and  inclination  of  thinking  logically  and 
quickly,  of  putting  two  and  two  together  and  their 
ehoulders  to  the  wheel.  But  are  you  determined?  then 
go  on!  ignore  the  useful  professions!  make  petty -fog 
lawyers,  quack-doctors,  one-horse  preachers,  and  politic- 
ians, and  see  how  quickly  the  world  will  put  you  on 
half-rations,   or   send   you    to   the    poor    house.      "The 


LKOTURE    OF    PKOF.    LOWKV.  295 

offices  of  life  are  mainly  humble;  and  the  mental 
powers  and  capabilities  of  students  are  mainly  humble." 
The  sooner  we  see  this  truth  clearly,  and  act  upon  it, 
the  sooner  we  place  ourselves  in  the  way  of  becoming 
producers  in  the  hive  of  humanity,  useful  to  the  world 
in  our  day  and  generation. 

"As  a  matter  of  fact  and  experience  it  is  found  that 
a  student  usually  accomplishes  very  little  until  a  settled 
and  definite  purpose  presides  over  his  movements.  The 
energies  of  youth  are  limited  and  hence  to  qualify  them 
for  life's  work,  which  is  the  great  aim  of  scholastic  edu- 
cation, as  much  definiteness  as  practicable  should  be 
given  to  their  energies  to  save  them  from  waste." 
There  is  not  enough  definiteness  of  aim  among  the 
American  students.  We  find  among  them  too  many 
cross-eyed  minds, — minds  which,  when  they  bend  the 
bow  to  shoot  the  crow,  kill  the  cat  in  the  window.  The 
average  American  student  at  college  has  a  burning 
desire  to  acquire  everything  in  general,  but  nothing  in 
particular, — to  go  everywhere  in  the  whole  realm  of 
literature,  language,  and  science.  They  are  in  a  great 
hurry  to  go  somewhere  and  get  something,  but  "where" 
or  "what,"  they  too  often  know  not.  It  is  this  indefi- 
niteness  of  aim,  this  vacillating  purpose,  which  develops 
them  into  the  intellectual  Don  Quixotes  of  our  country, 
who  are  ever  charging  upon  imaginary  intellectual 
knights,  ever  attempting  the  impracticable  and  the  im- 
possible. While  it  is  those  minds  who,  knowing  their 
powers,  work  in  the  lines  of  their  mental  activities  with 
a  definiteness  and  fixedness  of  purpose,  are  the  soldiers 
in  the  army  of  civilization.  Cultivate  force  of  character 
if  you  would  be  of  the  higher  order  of  men.  The  two 
grand  divisions,  alike  of  animals  and  men  are  verte- 
brates and  invertebrates.     Vertebrate  men  have  a  back- 


296  UNIVERSITY    OF  MISSOURI 

bone,  and  invertebrate  men  have  none, — but  a  long  strip 
of  cartilage  where -the  back-bone  ought  to  be.  Tbose 
we  admire,  these  we  pity  and  despise.  A  man  without 
back-bone,  a  vacillating,  double-minded  man  is,  in  busi- 
ness, a  failure;  in  the  army  he  is  a  blunder;  in  the  navy- 
he  is  a  Sinbad;  in  the  coast  survey  be  is  a  cooker;  in 
science  he  is  a  smatterer;  in  the  mechanic  and  the  exact 
arts  he  is  a  bungler;  in  agriculture  he  is  a  dabbler;  in 
medicine  he  is  a  quack;  in  the  pulpit  he  is  a  narcotic;  at 
the  bar  he  is  a  shyster;  in  politics  he  is  a  demagogue;  in 
the  forum  he  is  a  buncombe;  in  the  presidential  chair  he 
is  a  tool  in  the  hands  of  scheming  politicians;  in  paint- 
ing he  is  a  dauber;  in  poetry  he  is  a  rhymster;  in  music  . 
he  is  an  automaton;  in  the  drawing  room  he  is  a  fawn- 
ing sycophant-  co  Bering  for  a  smile;  in  the  editorial 
sanctum  he  is  a  scribbler;  in  the  faculty  he  is  a  stum- 
bling block;  in  the  school  room  he  is  a  failure,  yes, 
worse,  he  is  a  curse,  he  is  a  crime:  In  his  essence  he  is 
a  fraud.  In  this  life,  his,  is  endless  trouble  and  vexation 
of  spirit;  and  in  Heaven, — w-e-1-1 — he  is  not  admitted 
there: — James  I,  6-7:  "He  that  wavereth  is  like  a  wave 
of  the  sea  driven  with'the  wind  and  tossed.  For  let  not 
that  man  think  that  he  shall  receive  anything  of  the 
Lord." 

By  the  meagre  instruction  of  the  traditional  college 
and  by  its  perverted  order  of  attempting  to  evenly  draw 
out  the  mental  faculties,  and  bv  its  insane  effort  to  mould 
into  one  form  the  minds  of  all  the  pupils,  not  only  has 
the  entire  public  mind  been  dwarfed  but  thousands  of 
intellects  have  been,  and  are  continually  murdered;  and 
to  shield  their  own  inefficiency  and  that  of  their  system 
these  teachers  pronounce  over  the  masses  a  condemna- 
tory verdict  of  imbecility,  by  such  truisms  as,  "we  can't 
polish  brick-bats,  nor  draw  blood  out  of  turnips." 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    LOWKV.  297 

Our  rational  universities  with  their  professional 
schools,  made  the  first  lift,  the  first  effort  to  restore  to 
each  individual  the  use  of  his  peculiar  mental  faculties, 
by  bringing  within  easy  reach  the  fertilizing  means  of 
instruction  in  the  line  of  each  mind's  activity.  The  par- 
ticular spark  latent  in  each  human  creature  is  being  en- 
kindled, and  the  dignity  of  humanity  redeemed  in  the 
masses.  On  the  extension  of  these  professional  schools, 
depends  the  true  progress  and  all-embracing  civilization 
of  the  people. 

That  agriculture  and  mines  furnish  the  raw  material 
for  the  life-blood  of  our  nation,  which  manufactures 
digest,  and  commerce  distributes  to  every  part,  are  prop- 
ositions indisputable, — are  political  axioms,  self-evident 
upon  the  mere  statement.  Agriculture  and  mines  are 
the  feeders,  manufactures  the  stomachs,  commerce  the 
veins  and  arteries,  and  the  telegraph  wires  the  nerves  of 
the  American  nation.  We  can,  hence,  see  that  the  four 
grand  pillars  of  our  state  prosperity  are  so  linked  in 
union  together  that  no  permanent  cause  of  prosperity  or 
adversity  to  one  of  them,  can  operate  without  extending 
its  influence  to  the  others.  Now,  in  a  healthy  nation, 
leaving  out  only  some  very  small  classes,  what  are  all 
men  employed  in?  They  are  employed  in  the  produc- 
tion, preparation,  and  distribution  of  commodities.  Is  it 
not  then  clear,  that  the  true  work  of  the  American  uni- 
versities, in  their  special  schools,  is  to  foster  these  great 
national  industries, — by  forming,  not  "hewers  of  wood 
and  drawers  of  water,"  not  ignoramuses  who  will  place 
themselves  in  competition  with  modern  machinery,  but 
rather  enlightened  members  of  the  body  politic,  produc- 
tive members  of  the  community;  skillful,  well-informed 
practical  artisans,  operatives,  agriculturists,  and  artists  in 
the  industrial  and  exact  arts.    It  is  these  men,  full  of  live 


298  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 

science  and  its  applications  in  the  industrial  and  the  exact 
arts,  who  are  at  once  the  masters  of  the  situation,  and  a 
demand  of  the  age.  In  fact,  the  American  universities 
have  already  made  professional  education  a  successful 
and  important  part  of  their  service  to  the  public. 

"It  is,  says  Prof.  Eliot,  a  function  which  we  have  acquired 
within  this  century,  have  found  very  useful  and  propose  to  en- 
large. To  us  a  relinquishment  of  this  power  by  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge, seems  a  loss  of  power  and  an  injury  both  to  the  universi- 
ties and  the  nation.  The  abandonment  by  the  English  universi- 
ties of  the  great  field  of  professional  education  is  one  of  the  most 
noteworthy  things  in  their  history.  Formerly,  they,  like  the  con- 
tinental universities,  had  faculties  of  theology,  law,  and  medicine; 
but  the  professional  instruction  in  law  has  been  practically  aban 
doned  by  them  for  generations ;  while  even  in  theology  their 
meagre  provision  of  systematic  instruction  has  lost  them  the  con- 
trol of  the  Anglican  clergy.  Professional  education  in  law  and 
medicine  long  since  left  Oxford  and  Cambridge  and  went  to 
London,  where  neither  legal  nor  medical  education  has  been 
•atisfactorily  provided  for." 

England  is  fifty  years  behind  Germany  in  her  edu- 
cational facilities.  The  German  gymnasium  with  the 
University,  the  German  Realschule  with  the  Professional 
School,  are  the  life  and  lights  of  that  nation  which  has 
within  twelve  years  arisen  in  her  colossal  grandeur,  and 
assumed  her  place  as  the  arbiter  of  the  destinies  of 
Europe.  And  they  stand  now  beacon  lights  upon  the 
mountain  tops  to  guide  the  educational  efforts  of  the 
world.  The  American  Universities,  profiting  by  the 
blunders  of  the  English  Universities,  are  incorporating 
professional  schools  into  their  curricula. 

The  following  historical  matter  is  from  Prof.  Oil- 
man in  North  American  Rcvieiv^  1876: 

"The  earliest  professional  education  in  this  country, 
was  given  by  the  clergymen,  lawyers,  and  physicians, 
each  in  hi^  own  w;i\    and  own  study,  without   any  refer- 


IiECTURK   OF   PROF.    LOWEY.  29$ 

ence  to  an  academic  examination  or  degree.  The  im- 
perfection of  such  means  of  education  gradually  led  to 
the  establishment  of  schools,  which  were  technical  train- 
ing-places for  lawyers,  ministers  and  physicians.  One 
of  the  earliest  and  best  of  law  schools  was  begun  in 
Litchfield,  Connecticut,  by  Judges  Reeve  and  Gould  in 
1784,  and  maintained  for  many  years — drawing  to  its  in- 
instructions  young  men  from  the  most  distant  parts  of 
the  land.  In  1794,  Chancellor  Kent  delivered  his  intro- 
ductory lecture  on  law  in  Columbia  College,  N.  Y.  In 
1816  Harvard  appointed  a  professor  of  law.  The  Law 
School  at  New  Haven  was  organized  in  1824,  and  re- 
mained a  private  institution  until  1S46,  though  a  profes- 
sorship of  law  had  been  maintained  in  Yale  College 
after  1801.  The  University  of  Virginia  began  a  law 
school  in  1825.  There  are  now  thirty-eight  schools  of 
law. 

"It  was  during  the  Revolution  that  the  first  steps 
were  taken  at  Cambridge  for  the  introduction  of  the 
study  of  medicine,  and  a  plan  for  the  establishment  of 
three  chairs  relating  to  medicine  was  presented  to  the 
Corporation  by  Dr.  Warren  in  1782.  The  Medical 
school  at  New  Haven  was  begun  in  1813;  the  College 
of  Physicians  and  Surgeons  in  New  York  dates  from 
1807.  There  are  now  seventy-four  schools  of  medicine, 
besides  eleven  dental  and  fourteen  pharmaceutical 
•colleges. 

"  The  Catholics  maintained  a  Theological  school  at 
Baltimore  as  early  as  1791,  and  another  at  Emmitsburg 
in  1 80S;  the  theological  school  was  founded  at  Andover 
in  1807,  at  Princeton  in  1812,  at  Cambridge  in  18 17,  at 
Bangor  in  181S,  at  New  Haven  in  1822,  though  in  the 
colleges  last  named,  theological  instruction  had,  for  a 
long   time   previous,   been    given   to    graduates.     Now 


300  UNIVERSITY    OF  MISSOURI. 

there  are  1 13  theological  schools.  It  is  thus  apparent 
that  one  of  the  earliest  intellectual  movements  of  the 
Republic  was  the  organization  of  professional  schools. 

"One  of  the  most  important  modifications  in  the 
higher  education  has  been  the  growth,  within  the  last 
twenty-five  years,  of  special  schools  of  science.  For  a 
long  period  the  United  States  Military  Academy  at 
West  Point,  founded  in  1802,  was  not  only  a  school  of 
military  engineering,  but  was  the  chief  place  in  the 
country  for  the  training  of  topographical,  hydrogra- 
phical  and  civil  engineers.  In  1826  the  Rensselaer 
Polytechnic  school  at  Troy  was  incorporated,  and  un- 
<ler  the  guidance  of  Amos  Eaton  quickly  exerted  a 
strong  influence  in  favor  of  what  has  been  called  in  later 
days,  the  New  Education.  About  twenty  years  later  the 
foundation  of  the  Lawrence  Scientific  school  at  Cam- 
bridge, and  the  accession  of  Agassiz  to  its  staff  of 
teachers,  gave  the  next  impulse  to  scientific  education, 
and  soon  the  Yale,  now  the  Sheffield  Scientific  school 
began  its  career.  Now,  most  of  the  older  institutions 
and  the  State  Universities  of  the  West,  of  which,  Co- 
lumbia, Princeton,  Dartmouth,  and  Pennsylvania  Uni- 
versity (and  the  Universities  of  Michigan  and  Missouri) 
are  conspicuous  examples,  announce  their  special  courses 
in  engineering  and  o^her  departments  of  science.  The 
Stevens  Institute  at  Hoboken,  distinct  from  every  other 
foundation,  has  made  a  specialty  of  mechanics  and 
physics."  Many  of  our  best  geodists,  astronomers  and 
topographical  and  hydrographical  engineers  have  re- 
ceived their  training  by  service,  during  a  term  of  years, 
on  the  United  States  Coast  Survey. 

"In  1S62  Congress  appropriated  a  very  large  portion  of  the 
national  domain  for  the  encouragement  of  scientific  instruction. 
The  act  is   known  as  the  'Agricultural  College  Act,'  but  its  pro- 


LECTURE   OP    PROF.   L.OWRY.  301 

visions  include  the  sciences  relating  to  agriculture  and  the  me- 
chanic arts,  not  excluding  literary  and  classical  studies.  Its  in- 
tent was  to  give  an  impulse  all  over  the  land  to  those  studies 
which  have  the  most  obvious  relation  to  the  development  of  the 
national  resources,  and  which  will  fit  young  men  for  modern 
scientific  professions.  Its  effect  has  been  remarkable.  Notwith- 
standing occasional  infelicities  in  the  plans  of  operation  adopted 
by  some  of  the  states,  the  general  influence  of  this  endowment 
has  been  excellent.  In  some  of  the  older  eastern  states  the  na- 
tional grant  was  sometimes  given  to  the  support  and  development 
of  institutions  already  begun,  as  at  Providence,  New  Haven,  Bur- 
lington, Hanover,  and  New  Brunswick.  In  Massachusetts  it  was 
divided,  a  part  going  to  the  Institute  of  Technology  in  Boston,  and 
a  part  to  the  Agricultural  College  at  Amherst.  In  New  York 
this  gift  ga\e  strength  and  vitality  to  Coi  nell  University,  and  ena- 
bled it  to  spring  at  once  into  a  position  of  conspicuous  influence." 
In  a  few  of  the  western  slates  this  national  bounty  went  to  the 
State  Universities,  to  found  agricultural  coll  i     Missouri, 

Wisconsin  and  Minnesota.  "The  southern  states,  in  consequence 
of  the  war,  were  slow  to  receive  the    be  i  i     the    Act;  but 

throughout  the  North  and  West,  institutions  aided  by  this  gr;  it 
are  now  in  full  progress,  and  usually  with  results  which  are  better 
than  even  th  Is  of  the  enactment  anticipated." 

Tiie  American  Universities  are  incorporating  pro- 
fessional  schools  into  their  curricula;  hut  they  are  com- 
mitting the  f.i  of  attempting  tc  teach  tlic  arts 
without  fittting  tht  r,i  into  practice.  And  our  Poly- 
technic schools  and  Military  Institutes  are  falling  into 
the  same  error.  I  quote  from  the  Report  of  the  special 
Examining  Board  oi  the  Virginia  Military  Institute, 
Lexington,  Va.,  July  1st,  1075.  The  Board  consisted  of 
Prof.  Chas.  L). ivies,  Maj.-Gen.  W.  F.  Barry,  U.  S.  A., 
Prof.  D.  II.  Cochran  and  Gen.  J.  W.  Grigsh"}  : 

"Tin:  1  instruction,  and   resulting  discipline,  in   this 

departmenl  mi       be  1    1  l1     but,       -  committee  would   su 

the  importance  oi  (  :amples,  and    that  frequenl   exercise 

in  obtainii  for  the  ap]  >f  the 

formula,    s  1  to   elucidate  the  fn  1  in      re  their 


S02  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI, 

ready  and  accurate  application  in  professional  life.  In  the  opinion 
of  your  committee  the  course  in  Civil  Engineering  would  be 
strengthened  by  increasing  the  proportion  which  the  field  work  at 
present  bears  to  the  theoretical  instruction." 

Now,  in  the  light  of  experience,  in  the  light  of 
common  sense  itself,  I  say,  if  the  American  Universities 
would  heed  this  idea  of  the  practical — this  idea  of 
uniting-  manipulative  skill  with  theoretical  instruction 
in  these  professional  schools,  then  would  teaching  the 
Exact  Arts  cease  to  be  the  vexed  question  it  is. 

If  the  farmer  produce  by  mistake  articles,  of  a 
quality  which  others  do  not  want,  or  in  a  quantity  greater 
than  the  demand  of  the  market,  then  he  suffers  serious 
loss,  it  may  be  ruin,  by  his  products  rotting  unused.  The 
necessity  is  equally  great  for  the  professional  schools  to 
study  closely,  the  markets  for  their  products,  the  demands 
of  the  industries  and  professions.  They  should  keep 
in  view,  the  quantity  and  quality  of  the  demands  of  the 
markets,  when  pointing  out  to  their  students  the  most 
promising  and  most  important  directions  of  labor  and 
thought  in  the  industries  and  professions;  should  never 
loose  sight  of  the  fact  that  they  are  manufacturing  for 
these  markets. 

For  Americans,  the  best  education  is  an  inspiration 
more  than  an  acquisition.  It  comes  not  simply  from  in- 
dustry and  steady  habits,  but  far  more  largely  from  that 
kindling  and  glowing  zeal  which  is  best  begotten  by 
familiar  contact  with  large  libraries  and  museums,  and 
by  constant  intercourse  with  students  of  the  same  pur- 
suits and  the  same  ambitions  and  with  enthusiastic  speci- 
alists. It  shows  itself  not  so  much  in  the  amount  the 
possessor  has  made  himself  master  of,  as  in  the  spirit 
which  he  takes  what  he  knows  and  goes  out  with  it  to 
grapple  with  his  life  work.     American  education  is  im- 


LECTURE   OF   PROF.   LOWRY.  803 

porta nt,  not  so  much  for  what  it  docs  for  the  pupil,  as 
for  what  it  enables  him  to  do  for  himself.  The  sooner 
we  make  a  youth  pursue  a  course  of  culture  for  himself, 
the  sooner  we  graduate  him  from  our  colleges.  By  pre- 
paring him  to  take  his  education  into  his  own  hands,  we 
give  him  the  benefit  of  a  perpetual  self-education.  The 
pride  of  America  is  her  self-educated  men.  Self-de- 
termination is  aimed  at  in  our  universities,  not  only  in 
the  theoretical  sphere,  but  in  the  sphere  of  the  will. 
Our  best  universities  only  prepare  a  man  to  take  his  ed- 
ucation into  his  own  hands.  And  he  is  best  prepared 
for  this,  who  has  the  power  of  exact  and  original 
thought,  joined  to  the  enthusiastic  spirit.  The  course  of 
study  which  best  gives  these,  is  a  thorough  k?iowledge% 
theoretical  and  practical,  of  one  or  two  of  the  subjects 
of  a  rational  college  curriculum,  added  to  an  elemen- 
tary hnoxvledge  of  all  its  subjects.  This  7nakes  a 
richer,  stronger,  and  more  fruitful  mind  than  a  sti-per- 
fcial  acquaintance  with  each  and  all  of  them.  This,  is 
the  education  obtained  in  the  professional  school  of  the 
American  university.  Professional  education;  i.  gives 
accuracy  of  thought;  2.  it  awakens  a  healthy  and  life- 
long enthusiasm  for  the  pursuit  of  knowledge;  3.  it  gives 
versatility,  the  remedy  sought  for  in  the  readjustment 
of  vocations',  4.  it  conserves  and  improves  our  civiliza- 
tion. 

Professional  studies  best  give  precision  of  thought 
and  accurate  knowledge.  Here  knowledge  must  be  put 
into  practice;  and  no  slip-shod  half-way  knowledge  of  a 
subject  gives  that  clearness  and  precision  of  thought 
which  is  necessary  for  putting  this  knowledge  into  prac- 
tice. "Every  such  study  has  a  practical  bearing,  and  in 
the  students  mind  is  invested  with  a  strong  sense  of  re- 
sponsibility.    Hence  springs  an  idea  of  moral  and  phys- 


304  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

ical  obligation  to  be  faithful  and  thorough.  The  noblest 
fruit  of  education  b  this  sense  of  responsibility  nnd  ac- 
countability. With  its  acquisition  the  vouth  becomes  a 
man,  the  'unwilling  school-boy'  enters  upon  what  he 
feels  to  be  the  serious  work  of  life. 

"The  special  merit  oi  an  office  education, — i.  e.,  the 
training  to  be  gained  in  a  lawyer's,  doctor's,  or  engi- 
neer's office,  in  the  counting  room,  or  in  a  factory — is 
due  to  the  fact  that  there  the  student  deals  with  the 
problems  of  real  and  not  ideal  life.  The  obvious  im- 
portance of  every  step  in  a  process  stamps  it  ineffaceably 
upon  the  mind.  This  is  equally  true  of  the  studies  in  a 
professional  school." 

A  professional  education  awakens  a  healthy  enthu- 
siasm for  the  pursuit  of  knowledge.  Now,  there  is  in 
every  branch  of  knowledge  a  beginning,  a  middle,  and 
an  end.  A  beginning  in  which  the  student  is  striving 
with  new  and  difficult  principles,  and  is  relying  in  a 
great  measure  on  the  authority  of  his  instructor;  a  mid- 
dle in  which  he  has  gained  some  confidence  in  his  own 
powers,  and  some  power  ot  applying  his  first  principles. 
He  has  as  yet  no  reason  to  suppose  his  career  can  be 
checked.  Let  him  proceed,  and  he  will  come  to  what 
is  called  the  end  of  his  subject,  the  commencement  of  a 
region  which  has  not  been  tracked  or  surveyed;  and 
here  his  mind  will  either  come  to  a  dead  stand-still,  or 
go  forth  on  voyages  of  original  investigation  and  dis- 
covery. 

What  is  a  student  when  he  graduates  at  our  col- 
leges? Is  his  education  then  finished?  Is  he  to  pursue 
no  branch  ol  study  further?  Nay  does  not  a  practical 
business  career  open  upon  him  immediately?  The  law- 
yer, physician,  engineer,  or  teacher  in  order  to  be  a  fin- 
ished   lawyer,   physician,  engineer   or  teacher    must    be 


I.ECTURK   OF    PBOF.    LOWEY.  I0S 

able  to  investigate  his  subjects   up  to  the  boundaries   ol 
knowledge.     Seeing  then  that  the  future  business  of  HJc 
will    require    knowledge    of  the    way    to    "go    through 
with"  a  branch  of  inquiry,  T  submit  that  such  a  pro 
should  form  in  one  instance  at  least,  the  exercise  of  col- 
lege years.     Convince  the   mind  by   one  example, 
the    similarity    which    exists    between    all    branches    ol 
knowledge   will    teach  the  same   truth    for   all.     G<<u   . 
through  'with  at  least  one  subject,  as  we  do  in  a  pro 
sional  school,  will    accomplish  a  two-fold   purpose:    [.  it 
will  awaken  the   mind  to  a  wholesome  and  just  estin 
of  its  powers;  3.  it  will  imbue  the  mind  with. a   health'. 
enthusiasm  for  the  pursuit  of  knowledge, — an   enthusi- 
asm  which    >v i  1 1    enable   the   student  to  carry   his   otl 
studies   up    into  that   higher  state   of  knowledge  where 
the  mind  can  effectively  apply  thought  to   its   collected! 
stores,  and  thus  prepare  it  for  those  sublimest  of  intellec- 
tual  efforts — discovery   and   invention.     There   is  some- 
thing inspiring  in  the  upper  regions  of  knowledge  as, 
the  atmosphere.      And  as  the   old  eagle  takes  her  young 
eaglets    to    the    mountain  tops    when  training  their, 
fly,  so  must  the  teacher   take   his   students  up    into 
higher    regions,   up    to    the    boundaries    of    knowlei 
when  teaching  them  to  fly, — when  starting  them  out 
voyages    of    original    investigation,    discovery     and     in- 
vention. 

Professional  education  gives  versatility.    Experit 
has  revealed   (and    mental    philosophers    explained) 
following  phenomenon, — that  men  who  have  given  deep 
attention  to  one  or  more  liberal   studies  can  learn  to  th< 
end  of  their  lives,  and  are  able  to  retain  and  apply  very- 
small   quantities   of    other   kinds    of    knowledge;  while 
those  who  never  learned  much  of  any  one  thing,  seldom 
acquire    new    knowledge   after  they  attain    to    years  ot" 


-306  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

maturity,  and  frequently  loose  the  greater  part  of  that 
which  they  once  possessed.  Now,  it  is  the  professional 
school  of  the  American  University  that  gives  deep  at- 
tention to  one  or  more  studies,  that  gives  a  thorough 
knowledge  theoretical  and  practical  of  one  or  two  of  the 
"subjects  of  a  rational  curriculum,  added  to  an  elementary 
knowledge  of  all  its  subjects,  therefore,  it  is  this  profes- 
sional school  that  best  gives  versatility. 

Professional  education  best  conserves  and  improves 
>ur  civilization,  because:  i.  It  gives  precision  of  thought, 
and  awakens  enthusiasm,  and  thus  meets  the  ends  of 
true  culture;  2.  It  secures  the  highest  skilled  activity  of 
each  individual,  and  gives  him  versatility  in  life's  activi- 
ties, 3.  It  gives  a  knowledge,  theoretical  and  practical, 
of  those  sciences  and  arts  in  which  civilization  rests. 

But  is  it  objected  that  students  and  professors  in 
these  professional  schools  will  become  hardened  one- 
sided bigots?  This  is  impossible  for  a  mind  which 
breathes  the  liberalizing  atmosphere  of  a  university  of 
associated  professional  schools.  By  mere  absorption  it 
will  get  enough  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  this.  It 
certainly  cannot  be  logically  argued  that  because  a  mind 
appreciates  the  grandeur  and  harmony  of  Astronomy 
that  its  eye  shall  necessarily  grow  dim  and  its  ear  dull  to 
the  harmony  and  beauties  of  the  workings  of  the  forces 
of  the  physical  and  chemical  sciences.  And  this  liber- 
alizing atmosphere  extends  even  beyond  the  walks  and 
walls  of  our  universities, — it  is  diffused  through  our  edu- 
cated communities.  This  free  commerce  of  ideas  be- 
tween the  minds  of  all  men  goes  constantly  on,  in  the 
most  active,  subtile  ways,  with  effects  the  most  salutary. 
There  is  no  kind  of  property  which  is  not  in  some  de- 
gree made  more  valuable  by  every  educated  mind  in  its 
vicinity.     Whoever  will  trace  out  this  subject  in  all  its 


IjECturb  of  prof,  lowry.  307 

bearings,  and  will  add  up  its  results  will  find  that  its 
sum  will  be  equal  to  the  difference,  between  a  civilized 
and  savage  community. 

He  who  reads  human  society  the  deepest,  sees  it  the 
clearest  that  those  handmaids  of  liberty,  the  press,  the 
pulpit,  the  bar,  and  the  industrial,  the  fine,  and  the  engi- 
neering arts  are  the  world's  great  civilizers.  It  is  the 
combined  influence  of  these,  and  not  the  desolation  of 
successful  war,  which  has  planted  and  upheld  the  stand- 
ard of  christian  civilization  at  the  ends  of  the  earth. 
Have  not  the  industrial  arts  won  man  from  his  nomadic 
wanderings  and  poured  into  the  lap  of  industry  the  ma- 
terial comforts  and  luxuries  of  civilization?  Have  not 
the  fine  arts  refined  the  tastes,  purified  and  ennobled  the 
aspirations  and  fired  the  soul  on  to  the  accomplishment 
of  the  sublimest  efforts  of  human  genius?  And  what 
shall  we  say  of  the  engineering  arts,  which  have 
spanned  the  great  rivers,  scaled  the  mountain  tops,  and 
united  the  two  oceans;  and,  by  thus  cementing  our 
Union,  upheld  at  once  and  perpetuated  our  national 
unity  and  our  country's  freedom.  Surveyors  and  engi- 
neers are  the  artificers  of  the  great  commercial  arteries 
and  veins  of  the  earth.  While  other  great  influences 
are  the  vis  viva,  the  living  moving  forces  which  impel 
the  commercial  blood  of  the  world,  yet  their's  are  the 
arts,  which  render  its  circulation  possible,  which  carve 
out  the  channels  for  the  world's  commerce  on  land;  and, 
at  sea,  render  its  circulation  safe  by  furnishing  charts  of 
coasts  and  piloting  it  from  port  to  port.  Their  counsel 
is  sought,  their  skill  is  required  in  war  as  well  as  in 
peace.  The  successful  general  requires  the  skill  of  the 
surveyor's  pencil  to  delineate  the  topography  of  the 
ground  over  which  he  is  to  manoeuvre  or  fight.. 
Topographical    maps   were   the   faithful   counselors    of 


808  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

Napoleon  I.  Tt  was  with  these,  and  not  his  assembled 
marshals,  that  he  held  his  councils  of  war  on  the  eve  ot 
every  great  campaign,  manoeuvre,  or  battle.  And  the 
parts  which  topographical  charts  played  in  our  civil  war 
would  furnish  the  richest  pages  of  its  unwritten  history. 
Their  want,  would  go  far  toward  explaining  many  of 
the  reverses  to  the  federal  arms  in  '6i  and  ^62,  and  their 
use,  many  of  their  successes  in  '63  and  '64.  And  the 
statesman  finds  in  engineers  his  most  powerful  instru- 
ments for  bringing  about  his  designs;  they  enable  him 
to  regulate  the  speed  of  the  wheel  of  progress, — by 
with-holding  their  influence  the  car  of  progress  stops. 

At  the  close  of  our  Civil  war  what  did  we  find? 
Our  nation  torn  into  bloody  fragments.  The  work  of 
the  warrior,  it  is  true,  was  done;  but  the  work  of  the 
statesman  was  just  begun.  The  work  of  propping  the 
bloody  fragments  of  our  nation  together  with  bayonets 
was  indeed  accomplished;  but  the  work  of  cementing 
them  together  was  to  be  conceived  and  executed.  The 
statesmen  of  that  day  took  in  the  problem,  and  by  a 
bold  and  admirable  stroke  of  statesmanship  solved  it. 
They  lent  national  aid  to  gigantic  enterprises  of  perme- 
ating the  nation,  in  every  direction,  writh  great  commer- 
cial arteries,  veins,  and  nerves,  railroads  those  and  these 
the  telegraph  wires — till  state  was  knit  to  state  the  na- 
tion over.  But  this  idea  was  not  new  or  original  with 
the  statesmen  of  1S65.  Jefferson  conceived  it  and  every 
President  from  him  up  to  Jackson  reiterated  and  advoca- 
ted it.  Jefferson,  in  his  third  annual  message  to  Congress, 
uses  this  language:  "By  building  roads  and  canals  and 
improving  rivers,  new  channels  of  commercial  commu- 
nication and  social  intercourse  will  be  opened  between 
the  states;  the  lines  of  separation  will  disappear;  their 
interests  will    be  identified,  and  their  union  cemented  by 


LECTURE   OF   PROF.    I,OWRY.  H<)9 

new  and  indissoluble  ties."'  Calhoun  says,  "Use  strongest 
of  all  cements  of  our  bodies  politic  are  the  roads,  canals, 
rivers,  the  press,  and  the  mails.  Whatever  impedes  the 
intercourse  of  the  different  states  of  our  Republic 
weakens  their  union.  The  more  enlarged  the  sphere  of 
commercial  circulation — the  more  extended  that  of  social 
intercourse — the  more  strongly  are  we  bound  together — 
the  more  inseperable  are  our  destinies." 

Now,  these  ideas  accord  with  human  reason.  For, 
those  who  understand  the  human  heart  best,  know  how 
powerfully  distance  tends  to  break  the  sympathies  of  our 
nature.  Nothing — not  even  dissimilarity  of  language — 
tends  more  to  estrange  man  from  man.  Can  we  not, 
then,  see  clearly  how  railroads  and  telegraph  wires,  by 
annihilating  space,  have  bound  our  Republic  together. 

The  engineering  arts  are  the  keys  to  the  mystery  of 
that  liberal  commerce  which  connects  by  golden  chains 
the  interests  of  mankind.  Now,  give  me  the  power  of 
cutting  off,  at  will,  the  knowledge  of  the  engineering 
arts  and  I  will  shake  the  world — will  make  every  na- 
tion on  the  face  of  the  earth  quake  from  centre  to  cir- 
cumference. Give  me  the  command  of  the  engineers 
and  astronomers  of  earth  and  I  will  at  one  fell  sti'oke 
paralyze  the  commerce  of  the  world  on  land  and  at  sea: 
And,  will  weaken  the  power  that  binds  these  states  till  it 
is  weaker  than  a  rope  of  sand;  till  revolutions  sweep 
over  this  nation  like  troubled  visions  o'er  the  breast  of 
dreaming  sorrow;  till  contending  armies  and  states  rise 
and  sink  like  bubbles  on  the  water.  To  us  Americans 
then  can  anything  be  indifferent  that  respects  the  cause 
of  the  engineering  arts,  when  we  have  used  them  in  civ- 
ilizing our  country  and  cementing  our  union.  Ah,  sirs, 
is  it  not  a  burning  shame  that  these  engineering  arts, 
which  contribute  so  powerfully  to  the  improvement  of 


310  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 

our  country  and  race,  which  arc  absolutely  necessary  to 
our  national  preservation,  arc  not  an  educational  care  of 
all  the  great  Universities  of  our  land. 

The  lights  of  applied  science  are  now  upon  the 
mountain  tops;  the  waves  and  winds  of  error  and  fanati- 
cism beat  upon  them!  Who  shall  keep  them?  You 
teachers  of  applied  science,  you  gentlemen  of  the  pro- 
fessional schools,  are  the  watchmen.  Keep  these  vestal 
fires  burning.  And,  on  the  night  of  December  31, 
1899,  as  the  clock  of  heaven  rings  out  the  old  and  rings 
in  the  new  century,  when  from  out  the  storm  and  dark- 
ness comes  the  A^oice  of  Liberty  ringing  abroad,  "watch- 
men, what  of  the  night?"  we'll  send  the  answer  back  to 
heaven,"  12  o'clock  and  all  is  well." 


P.  S.:  Much  of  the  material  of  this  lecture  is  I 
believe  new;  and  much  of  the  remainder  can  lay  claim 
to  whatever  originality  there  is  involved  in  "using  old 
facts  in  new  circumstances."  I  have  extracted  largely 
from  the  Writings  of  Presidents  Gilman,  Eliot,  and 
Laws,  and  Professors  E.  L.  Youmans,  W.  T.  Harris, 
Bain,  and  Herbert  Spencer.  My  reason  for  not  always 
giving  them  credit  on  the  spot  when  using  their  ideas 
and  language,  was  that,  in  dissecting  these  from  their 
context,  and  adapting  and  fitting  them  into  the  context 
above,  I  have  oftener  misrepresented,  than  truthfully 
represented,  what  they  intended  to  say. 

In  conclusion,  it  is  perhaps  proper  to  state  that 
while  in  college,  I  read  the  entire  Latin  course  (and 
part  of  the  Greek)  as  laid  down  by  our  western  univer- 
sities. T.  J.  L. 


ART,  THE  IDEAL  OF  ART  AND  THE  UTIL- 
ITY OF  ART. 


By  Georgk  C.   Bingham,  Pkofessor  of  Drawing 
in  thh  University  of  the  .State  of  Missouri. 

(From  the  Missouri  Statesman,  March  7 1 1 1 ,  1879.) 
In  consequence  of  a  severe   attack  of  pneumonia,  which  con- 
lined  Prof.   Bingham  1<>  his  room,  at  his  request  the   lecture 
read  by  his  friend  Maj.  Rollins,  president  of  the  board  of  curator.?.. 
After  a  few  preliminary    and  appropriate  remarks  by  Dr.  Laws,  in 
which  he  referred  to  the  fact  that  this  -was  the  first  and  only  public 
recognition   which  had   been  given  to  the  Fine  Arts  in  the  institu- 
tion since   its  firs!   organization,  and  expressing   the    wish    that  im 
the  future  good  results  would  flow  from  it  in  the  permanent  estab- 
lishment of  a  School  of  Design  and  of  Art  in  the  University 
introduced  to  the  audience  the  reader  of  the  lecture,  who  after  ex-  • 
pressing  his    very  great    regret   for  the   cause    which    kept   treri. 
Bingham  away   from   the  meeting,   proceeded  to  make   some  very 
complimentary  remarks  in  reference  to  the  high  character  of  that 
gentleman  as  a  citizen  of  Missouri,  and   one  of  the   most    eminent 
artists  of  our  country.     Evidences  of  his  wonderful  genius   were- 
to  be  seen  in  the  capitol  of  the  state,  and    indeed  in   many  parts  ©i 
the  countr;.    wherever  a  taste   for  the   fine  arts   had    received   any 
attention. 

Maj.  R.  said  it  had  been  his  good  fortune  to  know  Prof.  Bing- 
ham for  nearly  forty-five  years,  since  their  young  manhood,  as 
intimate  friends  and  companions,  and  he  could  say  with  entire 
truth  that  he  had  never  known  a  purer  or  belter  man,  one  of  whom 
any  commonwealth  might  feel  justly  proud.     Although   no  ai 


Si2  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 

.self,  but  having  a  great  fondness  for  pictures,  in   the  course  of 
xtended   remarks   he  commented  freely  upon    sonic  of  the 

paintings  before  the  audience,  and  others,  also  the  productions   of 

:     genius,   and   which  had   won   for  him  great  distinction  in  the 

world    of    Art.     He    spoke   of  the   great    moral    effect    of  all    his 

ks,  and  wherein  a    number  of  them  so  handsomely  illustrated 

the  character  and  habits  of  Western  life,  and  others  of  them  illus- 

ed  with  inimitable  skill,  the  free   institutions  under  which  we 

live;  these   monuments  of  hi-  genius   and  artistic  skill  would  live 

and  be  admired,  when  it    may  be  the  institutions  themselves    shall 

Slave  perished.     Maj.  R.  referred   to  a  number  of  interestin       .   ts 

in  reference  to  the  early  history  of  this  part  of  the  state,  and  also 

told    several    anecdotes   which  were    very  much  relish   d   by    his 

i  ers. 

In  proceeding  to  read  the  lecture  of  Prof.  Bingham,  he  said  it 
-•■■■■  dile  to  that  gentleman  to  say  that  it  had  been  hastily  pre- 
d  in  a  few  day-,  and  had  not  been  even  recopied. 
The  subject  of  the  lecture' was  "Art,  the  Ideal  of  Aim,  and  the 
Utility  of  Art."  It  was  read  so  that  every  one  in  the  audience 
heard  it  distinctly,  enjoyed  it,  and  was  greatly  instructed  by  it. 
The  -  written  in  the  clear  anil  strong  style  which  marks 

e  productions  of  Prof.  Bingham's  pen,  chaste  and  classical  in 
all  his  allusions  to  ancient  and  modern  art,  and  artists,  and  main- 
taining his  position  with  an  argument  and  logic  which  seemed  un- 
erable.  The  evening  passed  off  most  pleasantly,  and  we  are 
gratified  to  sec  so  much  interest  manifested  in  the  subject  of  the 
Fine  Arts  by  the  young  gentlemen  and   ladies  of  the   University. 

Bingham  died  in  Kansas  City,  July  7,    [879,  in   th<    1     ■  < 
f  his  age.     The  following  is  his  lecture:] 

ies,  Gentlemen  and  Students  of  the  University : 

1  have  been   requested   by   our    worthy  president    to 

■embody  in   a  brief  lecture,  and  present   to   you  some  of 

th-c  views  on  Art  which  I  have  been  led  to  entertain 

from  many  years  of  practice   and  experience  and  famili- 

with  the  works  of  many  of  its  most  eminent  profes- 

We  are  all  naturally  disposed  to  prefer  that  mode 

cpression  by  which  we  can   communicate  to  others, 

•most  forcibly  and  clearly,  the  thought  to  which  we  are 


LECTURE    OF   PROF.    BINGHAM.  313 

prompted  to  give  utterance.  Hence  artists  have  gener- 
ally been  averse  to  giving  a  mere  verbal  expression  to 
ideas  which  they  are  able  to  present  in  a  far  more  satis- 
factory manner,  with  the  pencil  or  chisel.  It  is  doubt- 
less owing  to  this  reluctance  on  their  part  that  the  lite- 
rature of  their  profession  is  chiefly  the  product  of 
theorists  who  can  err  in  safety  under  the  silence  of  those 
who  alone  have  the  ability  to  correct  them.  These 
theorists  are  often  laboriously  ambiguous  even  in  their 
definition  of  Art. 

Micheal  Angelo,  whose  sublime  and  unrivaled  pro- 
ductions, both  in  painting  and  sculpture,  certainly  entitle 
him  to  be  regarded  as  good  authority  in  all  that  related 
to  Art,  clearly  and  unhesitatingly  designates  it  as  "The 
imitation  of  nature." 

The  Oxford  student,  however,  who  ranks  as  the 
ablest  and  most  popular  writer  upon  the  subject,  under- 
takes to  convince  his  readers  that  the  imitation  of  nature 
so  far  from  beins;  Art,  is  not  even  the  language  of  Art. 
He  boldly  goes  still  further  and  asserts  that  the  more 
perfect  the  imitation  the  less  it  partakes  of  the  character 
of  genuine  Art.  He  takes  the  position  that  Art  to  be 
genuine  must  be  true,  and  that  an  imitation  of  nature  so 
perfect  as  to  produce  an  illusion,  and  thereby  make  us 
believe  that  a  thing  is  what  it  really  is  not,  gives  expres- 
sion to  a  falsehood,  and  cannot  therefore  be  justly  re- 
garded as  genuine  Art,  an  essential  quality  of  which  is 
truth. 

Such  logic  may  be  convincing  to  the  minds  of  those 
admirers  who  regard  him  as  an  oracle  upon  any  sub- 
ject which  he  chooses  to  touch  with  his  pen.  But  in  all 
candor  it  seems  to  me  to  be  merely  on  a  par  with  that  of 
a  far  less  distinguished  character,  who,  travelling  with  a 
companion  along  the  banks  of  a   river,  undertook,  for  a 


3*4  UNIVERSITY    OK    MISSOURI. 

vyager,  to  convince  him  that  the  side  of  the  river  on 
which  they  were  journeying  was  really  the  other  side. 
He  did  it  by  stating;  as  his  postulate  that  the  river  had 
two  sides,  and  as  the  side  opposite  to  them  was  one  of 
these  sides,  the  side  on  which  they  were  traveling  was 
necessarily  the  other  side.  Truth  and  such  logic  arc  not 
always  in  harmony. 

The  well  known  story  of"  Zenxas  and  Appeles,  two 
of  the  most  famous  painters  of  ancient  Greece,  has  been 
handed  down  to  us  through  the  intervening  ages.  Being 
rivals  and  alike  ambitious  of  distinction,  a  challenge 
passed  between  them  for  a  trial  of  their  skill.  One 
painted  a  picture  of  grapes  so  perfect  in  its  imitation  of 
that  luscious  fruit,  that  the  birds  of  the  air  flocked  to 
partake  of  them  as  a  servant  was  carrying  the  picture  to 
the  place  of  exhibition.  The  other  merely  painted 
upon  his  canvass  a  curtain,  but  so  perfect  was  its  resem- 
blance to  a  real  curtain,  that  his  rival  stretched  forth  his 
hand  to  remove  it  in  order  to  get  a  view  of  the  supposed 
picture  beneath.  Such  an  adherence  to  nature,  and  I 
may  add  to  the  truth  of  nature,  constitutes  what  should 
properly  be  called  the  truth  of  Art;  that  Art  only 
which  belies  nature  is  false  Art. 

These  imitations  are  recorded  in  the  literature  of 
that  classic  period,  as  evidence  of  the  excellence  in  Art 
by  which  it  was  characterized.  We  arc  loth  to  suppose 
in  an  age  made  illustrious  by  the  highest  civilization 
which  the  world  had  then  attained,  and  surrounded  by 
works  of  Art  which  coming  ages  will  never  surpass, 
great  statesmen,  scholars,  artists,  and  literary  men  could 
have  been  so  far  mistaken  in  regard  to  the  true  nature  of 
Art,  as  to  recognize  as  an  excellence  therein,  that  which 
was  really  a  defect. 

About  the  close  of  the  war  of  [812  one  of  the  "rcat 


liKCTURE    OF    1'ROF.    BINGHAM.  815 

naval  conflicts  between  the  British  and  American  fleets 
was  dramatized  upon  the  stage  in  the  city  of  Baltimore. 
The  scenery  was  arranged  with  all  the  skill  which  the 
most  consummate  Art  could  bestow  upon  it.  Even  the 
movements  of  the  vessels  and  the  motion  of  the  waves 
were  closely  imitated.  An  unsophisticated  sailor  who 
had  participated  in  such  conflicts,  happened  to  be  seated 
in  the  pit  as  one  of  the  audience.  Becoming  absorbed 
in  what  was  transpiring  before  him,  to  an  extent  which 
banished  all  idea  of  mere  stage  effect  from  his  mind,  he 
thought  lie  saw  one  of  our  vessels  beclouded  with  smoke, 
and  threatened  with  destruction  by  the  enemies'  fleet. 
His  patriotism  rose  above  all  considerations  of  personal 
safety.  He  could  not  rest  without  an  effort  to  transmit 
to  the  imperilled  vessel  a  knowledge  of  the  danger  by 
which  it  was  threatened.  This  could  only  be  done  by 
taking  to  the  water,  he  being  an  excellent  swimmer. 
He  sprang  up  with  great  excitement,  and  approaching 
the  ^tage  and  shedding  his  linen  as  he  went,  he  plunged 
head  foremost  into  what  he  took  to  be  water,  but  it 
being  only  a  well  devised  imitation  of  that  element  he 
went  through  it  to  the  basement  about  twenty  feet  be- 
low, leaving  our  vessel  to  its  fate.  What  man  of  ordi- 
nary intelligence  will  venture  to  affirm  that  scenic  Art 
thus  so  nearly  resembling  the  reality  of  nature  is  less 
Art  on  that  account? 

More  than  once  in  my  own  experience  portraits 
painted  by  myself,  and  placed  in  windows  facing  the  sun 
to  expedite  their  drying,  have  been  mistaken  for  the 
originals  by  persons  outside,  and  spoken  to  as  such.  Such 
occurrences  doubtless  mark  the  experience  of  nearly 
every  portrait  painter;  but  none  of  them  ever  dreamed 
that  the  temporary  deception  thus  produced  lessened  the 
artistic  merit  of  such  works.   The  great  ability  of  Ruskin 


816  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI. 

as  a  writer  is  generally  and  justly  conceded.  He  has 
performed  a  great  work  for  artists  of  his  own  age  in  de- 
stroying that  reverence  for  the  works  of  the  old  masters 
which  has  attributed  to  them  an  excellence  entirely  be- 
yond the  reach  of  modern  genius.  But  no  artist  can  safely 
accept  his  teachings  as  an  infallible  guide.  Artists  who 
expect  to  rise  to  anything  like  eminence  in  their  profes- 
sion, must  study  nature  in  all  her  varied  phases,  and  ac- 
cept her  both  a?  his  model  and  teacher.  He  may  consid- 
er every  theory  which  may  be  advanced  upon  tl  ■  subject 
nearest  to  his  heart,  but  he  must  trust  his  own  eyes  and 
never  surrender  the  deliberate  and  matured  conclusions 
of  his  own  judgment  to  any  authority  however  high. 

What  I  mean  by  the  imitation  of  nature  is  the  por- 
traiture of  her  charms  as  she  appears  to  the  eye  of  the 
artist.  A  pictorial  statement  which  gives  lis  distant 
trees,  the  leaves  of  which  are  all  seperately  and  distinctly 
marked,  is  no  imitation  of  nature.  She  never  thus  pre- 
sents herself  to  our  organs  of  vision.  Space  and  atmos- 
phere, light  and  shadow,  stamp  their  impress  on  all  that 
we  see  in  the  extended  fields  which  she  opens  to  our 
view,  and  an  omission  to  present  upon  our  canvass  a 
graphic  resemblance  of  the  appearances  thus  produced, 
makes  it  fall  short  of  that  truth  which  should  charac- 
terize every  work  of  Art.  But  while  I  insist  that  the 
imitation  of  nature  is  an  essential  quality  of  Art,  I  by 
no  means  wish  to  be  understood  as  meaning  that  any  and 
every   imitation  of  nature  is  a  work  of  Art. 

Art  is  the  outward  expression  of  the  esthetic  senti- 
ment produced  in  the  mind  by  the  contemplation  of  the 
grand  and  beautiful  in  nature,  and  it  is  the  imitation  in 
Art  of  that  which  creates  this  sentiment  that  constitutes 
its  expression.  The  imitation  is  the  word  which  utters 
the  sentiment.     No  Artist  need  apprehend  that  any  imi- 


I1ECTURE   OF    PBOF,    BINGHAM.  317 

tation  of  nature  within  the  possibilities  of  his  power  will 

long-  be  taken  for  what  it  is  not.  There  are  attributes  of 
nature  which  the  highest  Art  can  never  possess.  In  the 
younger  days  of  Micheal  Angelo,  soon  after  his  rapidly 
developing  genius  had  been  noised  abroad,  he  visited  the 
studio  ot  an  aged  sculptor  in  Florence  while  he  was  en- 
gaged in  giving  the  finishing  touches  to  the  last  and  no- 
blest of  his  works.  The  old  man  wishing  to  have  an 
expression  of  his  judgment  upon  it,  exposed  it  fully  to 
his  view  allowing  the  most  favorable  light  to  fall  upon  it. 
The  young  Angelo  contemplated  it  for  many  minutes 
with  wrapped  attention,  no  word  passing  from  his  lips. 
At  length  turning  upon  his  heel  he  said  it  lacks  one  thing, 
and  immediately  disappeared.  His  words  fell  as  a  death 
blow  upon  the  ears  of  the  old  man.  He  had  bestowed 
upon  the  work  the  results  of  his  life-long  study  in.  the 
confident  expectation  that  it  would  transmit  his  name  to 
posterity,  and  associate  him  in  history  with  the  greatest 
Artists  of  his  day.  He  became  gloomy  and  despondent, 
soon  sickened  and  was  laid  on  his  death-bed.  Learning 
that  Micheal  Angelo  was  again  in  his  vicinity  he  sent 
him  a  message  inviting  him  to  visit  him.  When  the 
young  sculptor  appeared  in  his  presence  he  reminded 
him  of  the  remark  which  he  had  made  at  the  close  of 
their  previous  interview,  and  earnestly  entreated  him  to 
name  the  one  thing  lacking  in  what  he  had  fondly  re- 
garded as  the  crowning  work  of  his  life.  I  meant,  said 
the  younger  artist,  that  it  lacked  the  gift  of  speech  and 
that  only !  We  can  well  imagine  the  new  life  which,  at 
these  words  instantly  sprang  up  in  the  soul  of  the  gifted 
old  man,  smoothing  his  passage  to  that  upper  and  better 
life  to  be  associated  forever  with  all  who  love  the  true 
and  the  beautiful, 

As  the  powers  of  man  are  limited  so  i^  Art  necessa- 


318  UNIVERSITY    OK    MISSOURI. 

rily  limited  in  its  domain.  It  can  only  embody  those  ap- 
pearances of  nature  which  are  addressed  to  the  eye  and 
exhibited  in  form  and  color.  Like  the  work  of  the 
grand  old  Florentine  sculptor  it  can  faithfully  present 
the  human  form  in  all  its  symmetry  and  beauty,  but  it  can 
not  breathe  into  that  form  a  living  soul  or  endow  it  with 
speech  and  motion,  It  can  give  us  the  hue  and  forms  of 
hills,  mountains,  lakes  and  rivers,  or  old  ocean,  whether 
in  calm,  sunshine  or  storm,  but  all  that  we  see  in. 
these  results  of  limited  {)ower  is  alike  motionless  and 
voiceless.  Their  is  no  murmuring  in  their  brooks  as 
they  seem  to  encounter  the  rocks  in  their  passage.  Their 
clouds  are  stationary  in  their  skies,  their  suns  and 
moons  never  rise  or  set.  There  is  no  sound  of  lowing 
coming  from  their  flocks  and  herds.  All  is  silent  and 
still,  and  being  so  can  never  be  mistaken  for  actual  na- 
ture. Nevertheless  that  Art  which,  within  the  limited 
sphere  of  Art,  most  nearly  resembles  actual  nature,  most 
clearly  expresses  the  sentiment  which  actual  nature  pro- 
duces in  the  minds  of  those  who  have  the  taste  to  relish 
her  beauties.  Ruskin,  with  all  his  verbal  powers  of 
description,  failed  as  an  artist,  and  I  have  no  hesitation 
in  affirming  that  any  man  who  does  not  regard  the  imi- 
tation of  nature  as  the  great  essential  quality  of  Art  will 
never  make  an  artist. 

THE  IDEAL  IN    ART. 

There  are  various  and  conflicting  opinions  as  to 
what  constitutes  the  ideal  in  Art.  In  the  minds  of  those 
liberally  endowed  artists  whose  productions  exhibit  a 
wide  range  of  thought,  it  seems  to  my  judgment  to  be 
that  general  and  much  embracing  idea  necessarily  de- 
rived from  the  love  and  study  of  nature  in  her  varied  and 
multitudinous  aspects,  as  presented  in  form  and  color. 
It  must,  however,  be  necessarily  limited  by  the  taste  of 


LECTURE   OF    PROF.    BINGHAM.  319 

the  artist,  which  may  confine  him  to  what  is  .special 
rather  than  to  what  is  general  in  nature.  I  sa3'  it  may- 
be limited  and  contracted  by  the  taste  of  the  artist.  Ar- 
tists permit  themselves  to  be  absorbed  only  by  what  they 
love.  And  as  nature  presents  herself  to  them  in  a 
thousand  phases,  they  may  worship  her  in  few  or  many. 
Such  of  her  phases  as  take  possession  of  their  affections 
also  take  possession  of  their  minds,  and  form  thereon 
their  ideal,  it  matters  not  whether  it  be  animate  or  inan- 
imate nature,  or  a  portion  of  either.  A  Landseer  is  cap- 
tivated by  the  faithfulness,  habits  and  hairy  texture  of 
dogs,  and  makes  them  his  specialty  in  Art,  being  ken- 
nelled in  his  mind,  as  it  were,  they  exclude  other  sub- 
jects of  Art  and  become  the  ideal  which  governs  his 
pencil.  When  Sidney  Smith  was  requested  by  a  friend 
to  sit  to  Landseer  for  his  portrait  he  replied,  uts  thy  ser- 
vant a  dog  that  he  should  do  this  thing?"  His  reply 
was  significant  of  the  apprehension  justly  entertained 
that  the  artist  could  not  avoid  giving  to  his  portrait 
something  of  the  expression  which  more  properly  be- 
longed to  his  favorites  of  the  canine  species.  Rosa 
Bonhier,  early  in  life,  fell  in  love  with  the  kine  which 
furnishes  us  all,  with  the  milk,  butter  and  cheese  which 
form  so  large  a  portion  of  the  aliment  which  sustains 
our  physical  frames.  In  living  with  them  and  caressing 
them,  their  forms  and  habits  took  possession  of  her  mind 
as  they  had  done  of  her  heart,  and  formed  that  ideal, 
which  makes  her  pictures  of  cattle  far  transcend  in  ex- 
cellence those  of  Paul  Potter  or  any  of  her  predecessors. 
I  cannot  believe  that  the  ideal  in  Art,  as  is  supposed 
by  many,  is  a  specific  mental  form  existing  in  the  mind 
of  the  artist  more  perfect  than  any  prototype  in  nature, 
and  that  to  be  a  great  artist  he  must  look  within  him  for 
a  model  and  close  his  eyes  upon   external  nature.     Such 


920  UNIVERSITY    OV   MISSOURI. 

a  mental  form  would  be  a  fixed  and  determined  idea,  ad- 
mitting of  no  variations,  such  as  we  find  in  diversified 
nature  and  in  the  works  of  artists  most  distinguished  in 
their  profession.  An  artist  guided  by  such  a  form  would 
necessarily  repeat  in  every  work  exactly  the  same  lines 
and  the  same  expression. 

To  the  beautiful  belongs  an  endless  variety,  ft  is  seen 
not  only  in  symmetry  and  elegance  of  form,  in  youth 
and  health,  but  is  often  quite  as  fully  apparent  in  de- 
crepit old  age.  It  is  found  in  the  cottage  of  the  peasant 
as  well  as  in  the  palace  of  kings.  It  is  seen  in  all  the 
relations,  domestic  and  municipal,  of  a  virtuous  people, 
and  in  all  that  harmonizes  man  with  his  Creator.  The 
id<  il  of  the  great  artist,  therefore,  embraces  all  of  the 
beautiful  which  presents  itself  in  form  and  color, 
whether  characterized  by  elegance  and  symmetry  or  by 
any  quality  within  the  wide  and  diversified  domain  of 
the  beautiful.  Mere  symmetiy  of  form  finds  no  place 
in  the  works  of  Rembrant,  Teniers,  Ostade,  and  others 
of  a  kindred  school.  Their  men  and  women  fall  im- 
measurably below  that  order  of  beauty  which  charac- 
terizes the  sculptures  of  classic  Greece.  But  they  ad- 
dress themselves  none  the  less  to  our  love  of  the  beauti- 
ful, and  none  the  less  tend  to  nourish  the  development 
and  growth  of  those  tastes  which  prepare  us  for  the  en- 
joyment of  that  higher  life  which  is  to  begin  when  our 
mortal  existence  shall  end. 

All  the  thought  which  in  the  course  of  my  studies, 
I  have  been  able  to  give  to  the  subject,  has  led  me  to 
conclude  that  the  ideal  in  Art  is  but  the  impressions 
made  upon  the  mind  of  the  artist  b}-  the  beautiful  or 
Art  subjects  in  external  nature,  and  that  our  Art  power 
is  the  ability  to  receive  and  retain  these  impressions  .so 
clearly   and   distinctly   as   to  be   able  to  duplicate  them 


IjECTURE    OF    PROF.   BINGHAM.  321 

upon  our  canvas.  So  far  from  these  impressions  thus 
engraved  upon  our  memory  being  superior  to  nature, 
they  are  but  the  creatures  of  nature,  and  depend  upon 
her  for  existence  as  fully  as  the  image  in  a  minor  de- 
pends upon  that  which  is  before  it.  It  is  true  that  a 
work  of  Art  emulating  from  these  impressions  may  he, 
and  generally  is,  tinged  by  some  peculiarity  belonging  to 
the  mind  of  the  artist,  just  as  some  mirrors  by  a  slight 
convex  in  their  surface  give  reflections  which  do  not 
exactly  accord  with  the  objects  hefore.  them.  Yet  any 
obvious  and  radical  departure  from  its  prototypes  in 
nature  will  justly  condemn  it  as  a  wink  of  Art. 

I  have  frequently  been  told,  in  conversation  with 
persons  who  have  obtained  their  ideas  of  Art  from  hooks, 
that  an  artist  should  give  to  his  productions  something 
more  than  nature  presents  to  the  eye.  That  in  painting 
a  portrait  for  instance,  he  should  not  be  satisfied  with 
giving  a  true  delineation  of  the  form  and  features  of 
his  subject,  with  all  the  lines  of  his  face  which  mark 
his  individuality,  but  in  addition  to  these  should  impart 
to  his  work  the  soul  of  his  sitter.  \  cannot  but  think 
that  this  is  exacting  from  an  art  is:  that  which  rather 
transcends  the  limits  of  his  powers,  great  as  they  may 
be.  As  for  myself,  1  must  confess,  that  if  my  life  and 
even  my  eternal  salvation  depended  upon  such  an 
achievement,  I  would  look  forward  to  nothing  better  than 
death  and  everlasting  misery,  in  that  place  prepared  for 
the  unsaved.  According  to  all  of  our  existing  ideas  of 
a  soul,  there  is  nothing  material  in  its  composition.  The 
manufacture,  therefore,  of  such  a  thing  out  of  the 
earthen  pigments  which  lie  upon  my  palate  would  be  a 
miracle  entitling  me  to  rank  as  the  equal  of  the 
Almighty  himself.  Even  if  I  could  perform  such  a 
miracle,  I  would  be  robbing  my  sitter  of  the  most  valua 


322  UNIVERSITY    OP   MISSOURI. 

ble  part  of  his  nature  and  giving'  it  to  the  work  of  my 
own  hands.  There  are  lines  which  are  to  be  seen  on 
every  man's  face  which  indicate  to  a  certain  extent  the 
nature  of  the  spirit  within  him.  But  these  lines  are  not 
the  spirit  which  they  indicate  any  more  than  the  sign 
above  the  entrance  to  a  store  is  the  merchandize  within. 
These  lines  upon  the  face  embody  what  artists  term  its 
expression,  because  they  reveal  the  thoughts,  emotions, 
and  to  some  extent  the  mental  and  moral  character  of 
the  man.  The  clear  perception  and  practiced  eye  of  the 
artist  will  not  fail  to  detect  these;  and  by  tracing  similar 
lines  upon  the  portrait,  he  gives  to  it  the  expression 
which  belongs  to  the  face  of  his  sitter,  in  doing  this,  so 
far  from  transferring  to  his  canvass  the  soul  of  his  sub- 
ject, he  merely  gives  such  indications  of  a  soul  as  appear 
in  certain  lines  of  the  human  face;  if  he  gives  them  cor- 
rectly, he  has  done  all  that  Art  can  do. 

THE    UTILITY    OF    ART. 

If  man  were  a  mere  animal  whose  enjoyments  did 
not  extend  beyond  the  gratification  of  the  appetites  of 
such  a  being  Art  might  justly  be  regarded  as  a  thing  of 
very  little  importance. 

In  the  elevated  sense  in  which  we  are  discussing  it, 
it  addresses  itself  solely  to  that  portion  of  man  which  is 
the  breath  of  the  Eternal — which  lives  forever, — which 
is  capable  of  endless  growth  and  progress,  and  the  re- 
quirements of  which  are  peculiar  to  itself.  The  beauti- 
ful, and  all  that  is  embraced  in  what  is  termed  esthetics, 
together  with  all  that  contributes  to  mental  develop- 
ment is  the  natural  food  of  the  soul,  and  is  as  essential  to 
its  growth,  expansion  and  happiness,  as  is  the  daily 
bread  we  consume,  to  the  health  and  life  of  our  animal 
nature.  The  appetite  for  this  spiritual  food,  like  that  for 
the  nourishment  essential  to  our  material  growth,  is  a 


LKCTURE    OF   I'ROF.   BINGHAM.  328 

part  of  our  nature.  As  the  latter  turns  the  lips  of  the 
new  born  infant  to  the  breast  of  its  mother,  the  former 
exhibits  itself  in  its  love  of  the  beautiful.  Before  it  is 
capable  of  thought  or  reason,  its  eyes  will  sparkle  with 
intense  delight  at  the  presentation  of  a  beautiful  bouquet, 
while  it  would  look  upon  a  nugget  of  gold  richer  than 
the  mines  of  California  ever  produced,  with  utter  indif- 
ference. As  the  growth,  strength  and  development  of 
the  body  depend  upon  the  food  demanded  by  its  natural 
appetites,  so  must  the  growth  and  development  of  the 
soul,  and  its  capacity  for  enjoyment,  depend  upon  the 
spiritual  food  demanded  by  those  tastes  peculiar  to  and 
a  part  of  its  nature. 

The  soul  is  as  necessarily  dwarfed  by  withholding 
from  it  its  proper  nourishment,  as  is  the  body  from  a 
like  cause.  The  natural  wants  of  both  should  be  con- 
stantly supplied,  that  the  child  as  it  grows  in  stature  may 
also  wax  strong  in  spirit.  If  we  regard  that  as  useless 
which  meets  the  demands  of  the  esthetic  tastes  of  our 
nature,  then  we  must  regard  God  as  exhibiting  no 
wisdom  in  decorating  nature  in  so  lavish  a  manner  with 
the  grand,  the  sublime,  and  beautiful.  In  giving  us  the 
fruit  he  might  have  omitted  the  beautiful  bloom  which 
heralds  its  coming.  In  giving  us  the  rain  which 
moistens  our  fields  and  makes  our  rivers,  he  might  have 
withheld  the  accompanying  arch  which  spans  the 
heavens  and'  exhibits  to  our  delighted  gaze  its  perfect 
symmetry  in  form  and  unequaled  glory  in  color.  He 
might  have  spread  over  land  and  sea  and  sky  a  dull  and 
monotonous  hue,  instead  of  enriching  them  with  that 
infinitude  of  the  beautiful,  which  they  ceaselessly  unveil 
to  the  eye  of  man.  All  this  display  of  the  grand  and 
the  beautiful  seems  to  be  a  divine  recognition  of  the 
wants  of  our  spiritual  nature  and  a  benevolent  purpose 
to  supply  them. 


924  UNIVERSITY   OV   MISSOURI. 

The  absence  of  Art  in  any  nation  will  ever  be  a 
mark  of  its  ignorance  and  degradation.  While  the 
highest  Art  will  be  the  chaplet  which  crowns  the 
highest  civilization,  its  uses  extend  far  beyond  the.  grat- 
ification of  our  inherent  love  of  the  beautiful.  As  a 
language,  its  expressions  are  clearer  than  any  which  can 
be  embodied  in  alphabetical  forms,  or  that  proceeds  from 
articulate  sounds.  It  also  has  the  advantage  of  being 
everywhere  understood  by  all  nations,  whether  savage 
or  civilized. 

Much  that  is  of  great  importance  in  the  history  of 
the  world  would  be  lost  if  it  were  not  for  Art.  Great 
empires  which  have  arisen,  flourished  and  disappeared, 
are  now  chiefly  known  by  their  imperishable  records  of 
Art.  It  is  indeed  the  chief  agent  in  securing  national 
immortality.  In  the  remote  and  prehistoric  periods  of 
the  past,  there  have  doubtless  been  nations  who  gave  no 
encouragement  to  Art,  but  like  the  baseless  fabrics  of 
vision  they  have  disappeared  and  left  not  a  wreck  be- 
hind. And  this  glorious  Republic  of  ours,  stretching  its 
liberal  sway  over  a  vast  continent,  will  perhaps  be  best 
known  in  the  distant  ages  of  the  future  by  the  imperish- 
able monuments  of  Art  which  we  may  have  the  taste 
and  the  genius  to  erect. 


METAPHYSICS. 


A  Lecture  by  Samuel  S.  Laws,  Professor  of 
Metaphysics  in  the  University  of  the  State 
of  Missouri,  May  10,  1879. 

There  is  only  too  much  reason  to  apprehend  that 
the  bare  mention  of  metaphysics,  as  the  subject  of  this 
lecture,  suggests  to  some  minds  the  question  whether 
anything  really  serious  or  intelligible  is  intended.  The 
prejudice  against  this  subject  is  not  unfrequently  veiled 
under  the  following  burlesque  definition,  credited  to  the 
blacksmith  of  Glamis:  "Twa  folk  disputin  thegither; 
he  that's  listenin  disna  ken  what  he  that's  speakin  means, 
and  he  that's  speakin  disna  ken  what  he  means  himsel — 
that's  metaphysics!"  The  irrepressible  wit  of  Sydney 
Smith  was  indulged  in  ridicule  of  it.  It  is  related  that, 
when  lecturing  on  one  of  its  topics,  he  exclaimed,  in  his 
deep,  sonorous  and  warning  voice,  "Ladies  and  gentle- 
men, there  is  a  word  of  dire  sound  and  horrible  import, 
which  I  fain  would  have  kept  concealed  if  I  possibly 
could,  but  as  this  is  not  feasible  I  shall  meet  the  danger 
at  once  and  get  out  of  it  as  well  as  I  can.  The  word  to 
which  I  allude  is  that  very  tremendous  one  of  Metaphys- 
ics, which  in  a  lecture  on  moral  philosophy,  seems  likely 
to  produce  as  much  alarm  as  the  cry  of  fire  in  a  crowded 


826  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

playhouse;  when  Belvidera  is  left  to  cry  by  herself,  and 
every  one  saves  himself  in  the  best  manner  he  can.  I 
must  beg  of  my  audience,  however,  to  sit  quiet,  and  in 
the  mean  time  make  use  of  the  language  which  the 
manager  would  probably  adopt  on  such  an  occasion :  I 
am  sure,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  there  is  not  the  smallest 
degree  of  danger."  This  prejudice  against  metaphysics 
has  not  been  confined  to  the  rude  and  vulgar,-  either  of 
the  present  or  of  the  past.  By  placing  the  fool's  cap  on 
the  head  of  Socrates,  the  ignorant  derision  of  the  Athe- 
nian populace  culminated  in  his  unrighteous  death  sen- 
tence by  their  judges.  The  spirit  of  this  scene  still  lives. 
Once,  metaphysics  was  named  and  esteemed  the  queen 
of  the  sciences;  but  what  has  been  the  fate  of  this  prin- 
cess? Our  most  distinguished  modern  scientists  have 
been  reenacting  the  part  of  Aristophanes,  with  this  dif- 
ference, that  he  employed  ridicule  against  Socrates, 
avowedly  in  the  interest  of  conservatism,  whilst  these 
votaries  of  nature  have  made  a  mistaken  use  of  it  in  the 
supposed  interest  of  progress.  Were  Shaftbury's  crite- 
rion valid,  that  ridicule  is  the  test  of  truth,  it  might 
legitimate  this  style  of  warfare;  but  more  than  once 
have  other  than  groundlings  with  bloody  hands  joined  in 
driving  from  the  world's  stage  the  brightest  impersona- 
tions of  the  true,  the  beautiful  and  the  good.  Scientific, 
no  less  than  religious  truth,  has  had  its  martyrs;  but 
through  the  ages,  the  two,  properly  understood,  have 
never  been  in  conflict  with  each  other,  whilst  both  have 
been  in  antagonism  with  ignorance,  their  common  and 
implacable  foe.  Metaphysics  is  their  common  and  faith- 
ful friend.  With  united  voice  the  lovers  of  truth  might 
peal  forth  the  words  of  Tennyson,  as  the  anthem  of  the 
centuries — 

"Ring  out  the  old, 

Ring  in  the  new; 
Ring  out  the  false, 

Rin^  in  the  true." 


LECTURE   OF  PKES.    LAWS.  827 

But  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  the  old  is  not 
always  the  false,  nor  the  new  always  the  true,  as  was 
illustrated  in  a  notice  once  given  of  a  book — perhaps 
one  of  the  popular  contributions  to  modern  science — in 
which  notice  it  was  remarked,  by  way  of  commenda- 
tion, that  the  book  in  question  had  in  it  much  that  was 
new  and  also  much  that  was  true ;  and  by  way  of  criti- 
cism, that  what  was  true  in  it  was  old  and  what  was  new 
in  it  was  false.  The  only  rational  rule  of  mental  pro- 
cedure is  to  "prove  all  things,"  whether  new  or  old,  and 
"hold  fast  to  that  which  is  good."  By  the  faithful  asser- 
tion of  this  catholic  principle  of  judgment,  we  loyally 
venture  to  believe  that  our  queen  is  destined  to  recover 
the  crown  and  royal  state  of  which  she  has  beeta  de- 
prived, and  to  hold  again  her  position  in  the  universi- 
ties of  the  world,  iess  exclusively  and  pretentiously,  no 
doubt,  and  vet  with  an  empire  subject  to  her  restored 
sceptre,  embracing  whole  kingdoms  which,  under  the 
old  regime,  were  not  yet  discovered.  The  science  of 
the  present  reveals,  daily,  that  it  is  not  self-sufficient,  and 
that,  just  as  a  building  of  large  and  imposing  dimen- 
sions requires  beneath  its  super-structure  a  foundation 
i  -/inks  out  of  the  view  of  the  senses,  so  science  l'ests 
on  the  transcendental  and  unseen  realities  of  the  world 
of  metaphysics.     Faith  is  more  profound  than  reason. 

As  a  corrective  of  the  misconceptions  and  ignorance 
which  generate  the  prejudice  to  which  reference  has  been 
made,  and  as  a  means  of  enlisting  an  intelligent  interest  in 
our  subject,  it  will  be  my  aim  to  present  it  in  as  elemen- 
tary and  complete  a  manner  as  the  limits  of  the  hour  and 
the  surrounding  circumstances  will  permit.  It  is  due  to 
the  body  of  students  of  this  University,  that  the  one  in 
charge  o!  this  disparaged  department,  which  has  been 
dropped  or  omitted  from  the  curriculum  of  some  of  the 


328  UNIVERSITY  OP  MISSOURI. 

leading  institutions  of  our  day,  should  disabuse  their 
minds  of"  those  false  impressions  which  may  disincline 
them  to  enter  on  this  line  of  work.  What  may  induce 
neglect  of  this  study  may  also  perniciously  serve  as  a 
plausible  apology  for  what  should  properly  be  esteemed 
a  disgraceful  ignorance.  Moreover,  as  colleagues  in  the 
faculty  of  this  University,  each  one  by  voicing  his  own 
department,  not  only  the  more  effectively  serves  the  stu- 
dents, but  also  his  colleagues.  Surely,  one  oftlv  leading 
advantages  of  such  a  course  of  lectures  as  tl  is  one  in 
which  we  have  been  engaged,  is  its  measurable  realiza- 
tion of  the  helpfulness  of  associated  labor. 

There  are  three  words,  viz.,  metaphysics,  philoso- 
phy and  ontology  of  which  you  will  please  take  note  as 
having  identically  the  same  significance.  What  is  to 
follow  amounts  to  little  more  th.m  an  exposition  of  the 
one  true  meaning  of  these  three  terms.  I  hasten  to  in- 
dicate that  meaning. 

The  word  metaphysics  has  a  wide  and  also  a  narrow 
sense,  and  we  must  guard  ourselves  against  equivocation 
by  an  explanation.  In  its'  narrow  sense,  it  means  all 
the  sciences  of  mind,  as  distinguished  from  the  sciences 
of  matter;  but  in  its  broad  and  generic  sense,  it  presup- 
poses an  acquaintance  with  these  special  sciences  of  both 
mind  and  matter  and  designates  the  science  of  being  or 
an  inquiry  into  the  nature  of  knowledge  itself,  especially 
with  reference  to  the  substantial  reality  of  mind,  matter 
and  God.  A  chair  of  metaphysics  takes  account  of 
both  of  these  aspects  of  the  subject,  but  the  present 
lecture  is  intended  to  set  forth  the  one  last  named,  that 
is,  metaphysics  proper  as  distinguished  from  metaphysics 
in  the  popular  sense  as  designating  a  limited  group  of 
the  special  sciences.  The  word  philosophy  is  also  ap- 
plied indifferently  and  equivocally  to  the  special  sciences 


LECTURE   OF    PRES.   LAWS.  3^9 

of  matter  and  also  of  mind;  but  ontology  has  a  less  pop- 
ular use  and  technically  accords  with  metaphysics 
proper,  which  is  our  present  theme.  It  has  been  al- 
ready announced  that  it  is  the  intention  on  the  present 
occasion,  without  further  notice,  to  use  these  three  words 
in  the  same  sense  and  .that  their  most  profound  and  im- 
portant one,  as  will  appear  more  fully  from  what 
follows. 

In  didactic  teaching  a  definition  has  great  virtue,  at 
the  opening  of  a  discussion ;  it  is  like  a  port  for  which  a 
voyager  sets  sail ,  as  it  gives  definite  regulation  to  his 
movements.  But  it  is  only  at  the  end  of  the  inquiry, 
that  the  pupil  is  supposed  to  be  in  a  situation  to  criticise, 
modify  or  even  supplant  the  definition,  in  the  light  of  his 
own  knowledge  of  the  subject.  The  faith  of  the  pupil 
at  the  outset  is  only  provisional. 

Each  of  the  above  words  has  its  own  interesting 
etymologjr  and  legend,  but  it  is  not  their  verbal  but  their 
idealistic  significance  which  is  at  present  our  chief  con- 
cern. There  have  been  numerous  definitions  given  of 
the  thing  meant  by  metaphysics  proper,  philosophy  or 
ontology ;  but  this  may  be  safely  said  of  them  all  that,how- 
ever  diversely  this  ontology  may  bevicwed,  it  is  uniform- 
ly recognized  as  a  form  of  knowledge.  This  broad  fact 
may  be  serviceable,  for  we  are  able  to  distinguish  three 
entirely  distinct  forms  or  phases  of  knowledge,  and  by 
so  doing  to  individualize  metaphysics  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  extricate  it  from  what  might  otherwise  be  an  inex- 
tricable confusion;  and  such  a  statement  may  have  sub- 
stantially the  value  of  a  definition,  whether  one  be  form- 
ulated or  not.  The  first  of  these  three  kinds  of  knowl- 
edge is  empirical.  This  is  simple  matter  of  fact  knowl- 
edge and  constitutes  the  experience  of  individuals  and 
peoples, covering  their  inner  as  well  as  their  outer  life — it 


890  UNIVERSITY    OF  MISSOURI. 

is  the  spontaneous  life  of  the  world  arid  constitutes  the 
raw  materials  of  its  biography,  its  literature  and  its  histo- 
ry. In  its  second  phase,  knowledge  is  scientific  or  modal. 
In  this  phase  it  is  the  product  of  reflection  and  generali- 
zation, for  science  consists  of  the  systematic  classification 
of  the  laws  of  phenomena.  No  amount  of  knowledge, 
whether  confused  or  classified,  abstract  or  concrete,  con- 
stitutes science  till  laws  are  grasped  and  coordinated.  But 
laws  are  the  mere  modes  of  the  coexistence,  continuance 
and  succession  of  phenomena  in  time  and  space.  The 
final  and  third  division  of  knowledge  into  philosophic 
as  distinguished  from  the  empirical  and  scientific,  is  the 
one  which  invites  our  attention  on  this  occasion.  Empiri- 
cal knowledge,  in  its  childlike  spontaneity  and  simplicity, 
takes  no  rational  account  of  laws  and  causes,  whereas, 
philosophy  views  things  in  relation  to  their  causes  and 
first  principles,  whilst  science  views  phenomena  in  their 
uniform  relations  to  each  other  in  their  successions  and 
coordinations  of  time  and  space.  The  explanation  of  a 
phenomenon  of  experience  from  observation  or  experi- 
ment, may  be  either  scientific  or  philosophic, — it  is 
scientific,  when  the  phenomenon  is  referred  to  its  law;  it 
is  philosophic,  when  referred  to  its  cause  or  sufficient 
reason.  Science  does  not  consist  in  a  search  for  causes  but 
in  a  search  for  laws,  as  being  the  formulation  of  the  effects 
resulting  from  the  uniform  action  of  causes.  The  laws 
of  nature  properly  considered  have  no  causal  force;  they 
are  correctly  viewed  as  only  "the  paths  along  which  the 
forces  of  nature  move."  The  philosophy  of  nature  is 
its  aetiology:  the  science  of  nature  is  its  modality. 

It  is  not  meant  that  experience  is  ignorant  of  caus- 
ality and  its  uniformities,  but  only  that  this  spontaneous 
form  of  knowledge  is  in  the  concrete  and  that  our  spon- 
taneous intuitions  are  quite  free   from   abstract,  reflection 


LECTUKE    OF    PREP.    IjAWS.  381 

and  construction.  Nor  is  it  meant  that  the  scientist  does 
properly  or  can  possibly  ignore  causes,  but  only  that,  to 
the  extent  that  he  has  or  holds  them  in  contemplation,  it 
is  not  as  a  scientist  but  as  a  philosopher  that  he  does  so. 
The  scientist  is  more  than  his  science, — is  not  a  mere 
scientist.  Nor  is  it  meant  that  the  philosopher  ignores 
experience  and  science,  but  that  as  a  philosopher  he  lifts 
their  contents  to  a  higher  plane.  In  each  case,  the  man 
of  experience,  the  man  of  science  and  the  man  of  phi- 
losophy is  somewhat  more  than  himself,  for  the  same 
soul,  in  its  various  stages  of  unfolding,  is  the  one 
treasure  house  of  all  this  threefold  wealth  ot  knowledge. 
Individuals,  like  nations  and  ages,  pass  from  spontaneity 
to  reflection  and  then,  by  criticism,  discover  a  chaos  or  a 
continent.  Ours  is  a  critical  age  and  the  angel  of  truth 
is  already  calling  to  the  watchmen,  what  of  the  night? 
an  I  in  the  dawning  of  the  morning  of  a  day  brighter 
than  any  on  record,  she  is  treading  the  firm  earth  with  a 
surer  step  than  ever  before.  With  confidence  may  we 
say,  in  the  bold  language  of  Milton,  "Let  her  and  false- 
hood grapple;  who  ever  knew  truth  put  to  the  worse, 
in  a  free  and  open  encounter." 

Empirical  knowledge  answers  the  question — what? 
scientific  knowledge  answers  the  question — how?  and 
philosophic,  metaphysical  or  ontological  knowledge 
answers  the  question — why?  The  what,  the  how  and 
the  why  are  not  in  isolation  but  are  interdependent;  and 
the  true  unity  of  knowledge  is  realized  in  their  recijDro- 
cal  communion;  the  first  phase  is  phenomenal;  the 
second  modal  and  the  third  noumenal : 

These  distinctions,  especially  in  their  scientific  and 
philosophic  phases,  seem  to  have  struggled  in  the  mind 
of  Aristotle  for  articulate  recognition  and  utterance,  as 
is  seen  in  such"  passages  as  the  following  from  his  Meta- 
physics: 


882  UNIVERSITY    OF  MISSOURI. 

"But  in  every  respect  is  the  science  of  ontology  strictly  a 
science  of  that  which  is  first  or  elemental,  both  on  which  the 
other  things  depend  and  through  which  they  are  denominated. 
If  then,  this  is  substance,  the  philosopher  or  metaphysician  must 
needs  be  in  possession  of  the  first  principles  and  causes  of  sub- 
stances. *  *  *  But  this  is  the  same  with  none  of  those  which  are 
called  particular  sciences;  for  none  of  the  rest  of  the  sciences  ex- 
amines universally  concerning  entity." 

The  importance  of  these  distinctions  appears  also  in 
such  passages  as  the  following,  from  the  Hegelian 
Schwegler's  History  of  Philosophy: 

"In  what,  then,  is  philosophy  distinguished  from  these 
sciences,  e.  g.  from  the  science  of  astronomy,  of  medicine,  or  of 
right?  Certainly  not  in  that  it  has  a  different  material  to  work, 
upon.  Its  materia]  is  precisely  the  same  as  that  of  the  different 
empirical  sciences.  The  construction  and  disposition  of  the  uni- 
verse, the  arrangement  and  functions  of  the  human  body,  the 
doctrines  of  property,  of  rights  and  of  the  state— all  these  mate- 
rials belong  as  truly  to  philosophy  as  to  their  appropriate  sciences. 
That  which  is  given  in  the  world  of  experience,  that  which  is  real, 
is  the  content  likewise  of  philosophy.  It  is  not,  therefore,  in  its 
material  but  in  its  form,  in  its  method,  in  its  mode  of  knowledge, 
that  philosophy  is  to  be  distinguished  from  the  empirical  sciences. 
These  latter  derive  their  material  directly  trom  experience;  they 
find  it  at  hand  and  take  it  up  just  as  they  find  it.  Philosophy,  on 
the  other  hand,  is  never  satisfied  with  recieving  that  which  is 
given  simply  as  it  is  given  but  rather  follows  it  out  to  its  ultimate 
grounds;  it  examines  every  individual  thing  with  reference  to  a 
final  principle  and  considers  it  as  one  link  in  the  whole  chain  of 
knowledge.  In  this  way  philosophy  removes  from  the  individual 
thing  given  in  experience,  its  immediate,  individual,  and  accidental 
character;  from  the  sea  of  empirical  individualities,  it  brings  out 
that  which  is  common  to  all.  In  short,  philosophy  examines  the 
totality  of  experience  in  the  form  of  an  organic  system  in  harmony 
with  the  laws  of  thought." — (pp.  11-12.) 

There  is  in  this  passage  a  certain  interbl ending  of 
the  scientific  and  philosophical,  which  the  above  three- 
fold distinction  enables  one  easily  to  discern  and  rectify. 

This  wisdom,  as  it  was  termed  by  the  earliest  specu- 
lators of  Greece;  this  philosophy  or  love  of  wisdom,  as 
a  later  age  more  modestly  termed  it;  this  metaphysics,  as 
it  was  named  from  the  chance  designation  of  the  earliest 
formal  treatise,  that  of  Aristotle,  on  the  subject;  or  this 
ontology,    as   defined   by  etymological  refinement — call 


LECTURE   Of    PRES.    LAWS.  333 

this  third  and  final  form  or  phase  of  knowledge  by  what 
name  we  may,  in  all  cases  it  seeks   Tor  the  foundations  of 
the  edifice  of  human   knowledge;  the  ultimate   and  en- 
during realities — the  noumena — attainable  by  our  intel- 
ligence, on   which   depends   the    certitude  of  what    we 
know.     Metaphysics  transcends  every  particular  science, 
whether  of  mind   or   matter,  and  every   experience,  and 
grasps  what  lies   beyond  and  what,  through  the  criticism 
of  science  and  experience   we  learn,  makes  science  and 
experience    themselves    possible.      The    real    problem 
which    metaphysics    undertakes    to    solve,    is    this,  the 
nature  and  ultimate  conditions  of  our  knowledge,in  its  last 
analysis.     Is  it  real?  is  it  illusory?  is  it  phenomenal  only? 
is  it  relative  or  absolute?  has  it  objective  as  well  as  sub- 
jective validity?     What  is  the  ultimate,  the  final  and  the 
satisfying  ground  on  which  the  superstructure  of  science 
and   the    accumulations  of  human   experience,   in    their 
most  comprehensive  sense,  repose?    We  seek  an  answer. 
Our  accepted  answer  must  be  to  us  our  philosophy;  and 
hence,  right  or  wrong,  our  philosophy  is  our  theory  of 
the  universe.     To  us  a  universe  unknown    would  be  as 
zero;  and  it  is  real  to  us  only  as   known.     Theorize  we 
must;  facts  without  theory  are  dead  rubbish;  our  nature 
demands  science  and  philosophy,  and  in  each,  theory   is 
more  than  hypothesis — a  theory   is  :i  vindicated  hvpoth- 
esis. 

It  is  now  proposed  to  take  a  brief  survey  of  the 
leading  hypotheses  of  the  ages,  set  forth  in  the  attempt 
to  solve  the  problem  of  knowledge:  notice  will  first  be 
taken  of  those  various  views  which,  in  varying  measure, 
are  esteemed  partial,  inadequate  and  false.  The  one 
view  which  I  conceive  to  be  true  and  valid  and  alone 
entitled  to  recognition  and  consideration  as  a  theory, 
will  be  reserved  to  the  last.     The  truth   is    imperishable, 


334  UN'VBRSITY    OF  MISSOURI. 

it  is  one  and  catholic  and  ever,  like  the  sun,  bears  on  its 
front  a  luminous  glow.  The  soul  hungers  for  it  as 
the  bread  of  its  life,  and  nothing  else  can  satisfy  it.  It 
is  hoped  that  the  conciseness  of  this  survey  enforced  by 
the  circumstances  '.nay  occasion  clearness  rather  than 
obscurity. 

All  the  philosophies  which  have  gone  to  record 
may  be  reduced  to  two,  which  are  fundamentally  dis- 
tinct and  antagonistic,  viz.,  nihilism  and  realism,  or 
as  I  shall  take  the  liberty  of  calling  them,  phenomenal- 
ism and  noumenalism.  These  two  opposing  views  pre- 
sent the  negative  and  positive  poles  of  speculation;  one 
is  destructive  and  the  other  constructive. 

I  have  a  sweet  or  bitter  taste,  the  smell  of  a  pleasant 
or  offensive  odor,  the  sight  of  a  beautiful  or  disgusting 
image,  experience  a  feeling  of  joy  or  sorrow:  the  phe- 
nomenalist  admits  the  appearances  as  phenomena  of 
consciousness,  but  will  not  allow  to  these  appearances 
any  substantive  reality,  nor  accept  of  either  mind  or  mat- 
ter as  revealed  or  evidenced  in  any  act  of  knowledge 
whatever.  The  phenomena  are  only  as  shadows  with- 
out substance,  and  as  dreams  without  a  dreamer.  The 
one  point  in  common  to  all  noumenalists  is  that  the  uni- 
verse of  being  is  something  other  than  an  illusion,  a 
cheating  mirage,  a  phantasm  or  dream,  and  that  in  the 
act  of  knowledge  we  grasp  phenomena  plus  substantial 
reality,  that  at  least  a  substantial  self  exists  and  endures 
amid  all  the  mutations  ol  the  universe.  But  what  fol- 
lows will  serve  to  render  this  general  and  abstract  enun- 
ciation easily  understood. 
i.     Nihilism. 

It  is  because  the  spirit  of  destruction  without  posi- 
tive aim  has  animated  the  discontented  elements  of 
European  society,  especially  of  late  in  Russia,  that  these 


I-KG'TURK    OF     1'RES.    liAWS.  335 

communistic  agitators  have  been  called  nihilists.  Their 
spirit  is  precisely  the  same  as  that  of  the  nihilistic  phi- 
losophy; they  seek  the  destruction  of  what  is  not  satis- 
fying-, without  offering  to  substitute  something  better  in 
its  place.  In  dealing  with  perishable  objects  such  as  the 
products  of  nature  and  art,  the  work  of  destruction  has 
a  fearful  and  irreparable  advantage.  A  child  with  a 
hatchet  may  in  a  few  hours  destroy  the  great  oak  whose 
growth  is  the  work  of  centuries.  But  in  dealing  with 
principles  and  things  of  a  rational  nature,  the  conditions 
of  vitality  are  not  so  precarious.  Truth  itself  is  inde- 
structible; and  this  is  the  stuff  out  of  which  knowledge, 
the  fact  which  we  seek  to  explain,  is  made,  for  all  real 
and  enduring  knowledge,  all  that  deserves  the  name  of 
knowledge,  consists  of  apprehended  truth.  Hence  the 
repeated  recoils  and  recoveries  of  thought  from  the 
misleadings  of  error,  and  the  tireless  renewal  of  efforts, 
after  repeated  failures,  to  gain  the  truth  in  its  simplicity, 
in  its  fadeless  beauty  and  soul-satisfying  power,  notwith- 
standing it  is  so  often  and  so  sadly  misunderstood,  mis- 
represented and  dishonored  by  errorists.  Nihilism  muti- 
lates the  truth  of  the  fact  of  knowledge  in  that  it  allows 
no  reality,  true  or  false,  material  or  spiritual,  to  aught 
beneath  or  beyond  apppearances;  and  even  phenomena 
are  speculative!}'  esteemed  and  treated  as  illusory.  This 
view  is  confessedly  not  accordant  with  man's  spontane- 
ous activity.  It  is,  then,  the  unnatural  progeny  of  a  dis- 
torted, partial  and  mistaken  interpretation  of  man's  na- 
ture; but  as  man  is  an  integral  part  of  the  universe,  so 
far  forth  as  that  universe  in  its  totality  stands  within  the 
vision  of  knowledge,  no  hypothesis  is  capable  of  vindi- 
cation which  fails  to  provide,  without  omission  or  distor- 
tion, a  complete  exposition  of  all  the  facts  of  man's  na- 
ture. 


336  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOL'JU. 

In  the  domain  of  speculation  there  .ire  three  names 
pre-eminently  associated  with  nihilism,  viz.,  Pyrrho, 
Hume  and  Fichte.  Even  Berkeley  and  Kant  were 
realists.  Protagoras,  the  sophist,  is  sometimes  individual- 
ized as  the  representative  of  the  dogmatic  and  Pyrrho 
as  representing  the  sceptical  or  nescient  phase  of 
nihilism.  Dogmatic  nihilism  denied  the  existence  of 
aught  beyond  appearances  and  sceptical  nihilism  denied 
the  knowableness  of  aught  beyond,  i.  e.  were  it  true 
that  something  other  than  mere  sensible  appearances 
exists,  still  we  cannot  know  it:  or  as  another  has  ex- 
pressed it — "The  difference,  therefore,  between  Prota- 
goras, the  sophist,  and  Pyrrho,  the  sceptic,  was  this — 
thai  while  the  former  maintained  the  universe  to  be  a 
mere  appearance  destitute  of  any  answering  reality  \ 
the  latter  simply  held  that  it  was  an  appearance  of  which 
the  reality  was  unknown^  But  as  both  of  these 
phases  of  nihilism  virtually  emerge  from  the  fragments 
and  reports  of  Pyrrho  transmitted  to  us,  his  name 
properly  stands  first  on  the  roll  of  the  representatives  of 
this  daring  speculation.  Diogenes  Laertius,  in  his  "Lives 
of  Eminent  Philosophers,"  gives  a  third  more  space  to 
Pyrrho  than  to  either  Socrates  or  Aristotle.  Let  us 
attend  to  some  extracts,  chiefly  from  this  ancient  sketch. 
Diogenes  says : 

"The  Pyrrhonean  system,  then,  is  a  simple  explanation  of  ap- 
pearances, or  of  notions  of  every  kind  by  means  of  which,  com- 
paring one  thing  with  another,  one  arrives  at  the  conclusion,  that 
there  is  nothing  in  all  these  notions  but  contradiction  and  confu- 
sion." Again:  ''The  difficulties  which  they,  (the  Pyrrhoneana,} 
suggest,  relating  to  the  agreement  of  what  appears  to  the  senses, 
and  what  is  comprehended  by  the  intellect,  divide  themselves  into 
ten  modes  of  argument,  according  to  which  the  subject  and  object 
of  our  knowledge  are  incessantly  changing."  After  canvassing 
these  and  other  modes,  he  continues:  "As  to  the  contradictions 
which  arc  founded  in  those  speculations,  when  they  are  pointed 
out  in  what  way  each  fact  is  convincing,  they  (the  Pyrrhonists) 
then,  by  the  same  means,   take  away  all  belief  in    it.     *  *     And 


L.KCTURK    OK    PRES.    LAWS.  387 

they  prove  that  the  reasons  opposite  to  thote  on  which  our  assent 
is  founded  are  entitled  to  equal -belief."  *  *  *  He  continues: 
"These  skeptics,  then,  deny  the  existence  of  any  test  of  any  dem- 
onstration, of  any  test  of  truth,  of  any  signs,  or  causes,  or  mofion 
or  learning,  and  of  anything  as  naturally  or  intrinsically  good  or 
had.  For  he  (Pyrrho)  used  to  say  that  nothing  was  honorable,  or 
disgraceful,  or  just,  or  unjust/' 

And  on  the  same  principle  he  asserted    that  there 

was    no  such  thing  as  downright  truth;  but    that  men 

did  every  thing  in  consequence  of  custom  and  law.  "For 

that    nothing    was    any    more  this  than  that."     Again: 

But  Democritus  says  that  there  is  no  test  whatever 
of  appearances,  and  also  that  they  are  not  criteria  of 
truth.  Moreover,  the  dogmatic  philosophers  attack  the  cri- 
terion derived  from  appearances,  and  say  that  the  same 
objects  at  different  times  present  different  appearances,  con- 
sequently, if  the  sceptic  (Pyrrhonist)  does  not  discriminate 
between  different  appearances,  he  does  nothing  at  all.  If,  on 
the  contrary,  he  determines  in  favor  of  either,  then,  say  they,  he 
»o  longer  attaches  equal  value  to  all  appearances.  The  sceptics 
(i.  e.  Pyrrhonists)  reply  to  this,  that  in  the  presence  of  different 
appearances,  they  content  themselves  w'th  saying  that  there  arc 
many  appearances,  and  that  it  is  precisely  because  things  present 
themselves  under  different  characters,  that  they  affirm  the  exis- 
tence of  appearances.  Perhaps  our  opponent  (the  dogmatist) 
will  say,  Are  these  appearances  trustworthy  or  deceitful?  We 
(sceptics)  answer  that,  if  they  are  trustworthy,  the  other  side  has 
nothing  to  object  to  those  to  whom  the  contrary  appearance  pre- 
sents itself.  For,  as  he  who  says  that  such  and  such  a  thing  ap- 
pears to  him,  is  trustworthy;  so  also  is  he  who  says  that  the  con- 
trary appears  to  him.  And  if  appearances  are  deceitful,  then  they 
do  not  deseuve  any  confidence  when  they  assert  what  appears  to 
them  to  be  true.  *  *  From  all  of  which  it  follows,  that  the  first 
principles  of  all  things  have  no  reality. 

Pyrrho  (384-2S8  or  360-270  B.  C.,)  is  reported  to 
have  lived  to  the  age  of  ninety  or  more.  It  will  be  ob- 
served from  the  dates  given  that  he  was  a  contemporary 
of  Plato  (430-348  B.  C.,)  and  also  of  Aristotle  (384-322 
B.  C.)  whom  he  survived,  at  the  least,  for  more  than 
thirty  years.  Like  the  great  church  historian  Neander, 
he  is  said  to  have  "lived  in  a  most  blameless  manner 
with  his  sister."  Having  followed  in  his  youth  the 
business  of  a  huxter,  he-then   became  a  painter  and  a 


338  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI.' 

student  of  Democritus  in  the  school  of  Anaxarchus, 
whom  he  accompanied  in  the  train  of  Alexander  the 
Great,  as  far  as  India.  He  was  a  native  of  Elis,  and,  on 
his  return  to  that  place,  he  is  said  to  have  been  made  a 
priest  of  the  temple  by  the  good  will  of  his  fellow 
citizens.  Pyrrho  himself,  like  Socrates,  wrote  noth- 
ing, but  Diogenes  says  'his  friends  Timon,  and  others 
of  that  class  have  left  books.  All  these  men  were 
called  Pyrrhoneans  from  their  master:  and  perse- 
vered in  overthrowing  all  the  dogmas  of  every  sect, 
while  they  themselves  asserted  nothing.'  Whilst 
Sextus  Empiricus,  the  physician,  who  flourished 
about  200  of  the  Christian  Era,  is  the  great  storehouse 
of  information  and  arguments  on  ancient  scepticism 
which  has  been  revamped  in  modern  times,  Pyrrho 
chiefly  lives  in  what  is  preserved  from  his  most  eminent 
pupil  Timon,  a  physician  of  Phlius,  who  wrote  three 
books  of  satirical  poems  in  which  all  the  Greek  philoso- 
phers are  reviled  as  babblers  except  Xenophanes,  the 
Hegel  of  Greece,  who,  in  his  esteem,  sought  the  truth  and 
Pyrrho  who  found  it.  Said  Timon  in  the  spirit  of  his 
master, — "That  a  thing  is  sweet  I  do  not  affirm,  but  only 
admit  that  it  appears  so."  "Again,  we  feel  that  fire 
burns,  but  we  suspend  our  judgment  as  to  whether  it 
has  a  burning  nature."  In  a  word,  as  it  is  pithely 
summed  up  by  Ueberweg — "There  exist  no  fixed  dif- 
ferences among  things."     Such  is  Pyrrhonism. 

The  supreme  psychological  characteristic  of  this 
ancient  nihilistic  speculation  is  the  assumed  suspension 
or  indifferency  of  judgment  under  the  full  blaze  of  evi- 
dence, however  pertinent  and  cogent,  whereas,  by  an 
inexorable  law  of  the  mind,  adequate  evidence  appre- 
hended, necessarily  decides  the  judgment.  There  is 
no  one   respect  in  which  the  passivity  of  the  intellect  is 


LECTURE  OF   PRES.    LAWS.  339 

more  strikingly  revealed  than  in  its  .submission  to 
evidence.  "These  sceptics,"  says  Diogenes,  "deny  the 
existence  of  any  demonstration;  of  any  test  of  truth." 
The  blinding  and  perverting  force  of  selfish  passion 
and  prejudice  where  moral  issues  are  involved,  being 
here  out  of  view,  the  submission  of  the  intellect  to  evi- 
dence is  as  stated.  The  human  mind  that  would  not  be 
compelled  to  acquiesce  in  the  demonstration  that  the 
three  angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  angles 
or  in  the  axiom  that  the  whole  is  equal  to  all  its  parts, 
would  be  pronounced  imbecile  or  idiotic;  and  a  like 
failure  to  discern  the  equally  valid  moral  distinctions  as 
to  things  right  and  wrong,  true  and  false,  good  and  bad, 
would,  under  the  kindly  influences  of  our  christian  civi- 
lization, be  cared  for  and  treated  as  that  of  a  lunatic. 

Three  centuries  of  Greek  speculation  preceded 
Pyrrho,  extending  from  Thales  downward  and  embrac- 
ing the  Academic,  the  Peripatetic,  (308  13.  C.)  the  Stoic 
and  (306  B.  C.)  the  Epicurean  Schools,  with  all  of  whose 
founders  he  was  a  contemporary;  and  as  he  studied 
these  pre-Socratic  and  post-Socratic  systems,  his  mind 
sank  into  doubt  and  negation — not  the  Socratic  doubt 
of  the  Academics,  which  balanced  between  the  choice 
of  positive  probabilities;  much  less  the  doubt  of  the 
Cartesians,  which  has  become  the  positive  guarantee 
of  certainty  in  our  modern  philosophy;  but  the  doubt 
of  unreality,  for  to  him  "the  first  principles  of  all  things 
have  no  reality,"  which  doubt  leaves  the  mind  a  blank, 
or  rather,  a  camera  of  unsubstantial  images.  His 
critical  judgment  could  easily  detect  untenable  ele- 
ments in  the  schemes  of  his  predecessors  and  contempo- 
raries,ahd  three  alternatives  were  plainly  open  to  him,(i) 
either  the  indiscriminate  rejection  of  all,  (2)  an  eleciic 
reconstruction  by  choosing  the  good  and    rejecting  the 


840  UMVKK61TY    OK   M1S60UK1. 

bad,  or,  (3)  the  positive  substitution  of  a  new  and  supposed 
better  creation  of  thought.  But  Pyrrho's  whole  being 
moved  away  from  the  positive  to  the  negative  pole,  he  re- 
jected all;  and  the  issue  in  his  mind  was,' as  we  have  seen, 
the  dreary  subversion  of  all  speculative  knowledge,  the 
denial  of  the  existence  and  knowableness  of  all  reality 
and  of  truth  itself,  for  which  he  admitted  no  criterion 
and  no  distinctive  character.  It  was  speculatively  the 
black,  bottomless,  hopeless  and  dreamy  doubt  of  nihilism. 

But  human  nature  is  often  more  sensible  than  human 
reason ;  its  spontaneous  activities  often  brush  away  like 
cobwebs  men's  fine  spun  speculations.  Naturally 
enough  Pyrrho  practiced  a  better  philosophy  than  he 
taught. 

Aenesidemus,  probably  of  the  first  century,  A. 
D.,  says  that  'Pyrrho  studied  philosophy  on  the 
principle  of  suspending  his  judgment  on  all  points, 
without,  however,  on  any  occasion  acting  in  an  im- 
prudent manner,  or  doing  anything  without  due 
consideration,  i.  e.,  suspending  judgment  in  all  mat- 
ters which  do  not  refer  to  living  and  the  pres- 
ervation of  life.  Accordingly,  say  they,  we  avoid 
gome  things  and  we  seek  others,  following  custom  in 
that;  and  we  obey  the  laws.'  Hence  it  is  related  that 
when,  on  a  certain  occasion,  Pyrrho  was  driven  back  by 
a  dog  which  was  attacking  him,  he  said  to  some  one 
who  blamed  him  for  being  discomposed,  "that  it  was  a 
difficult  thing  entirely  to  put  eff  humanity ;  but  that  a  man 
ought  to  strive  with  all  his  power  to  counteract  circum- 
stances with  his  actions  if  possible,  and  at  all  events  with 
his  reason."  Horace  says  that  one  cannot  drive  out  nature 
with  a  pitch -fork,  and  the  law  of  self-preservation  is 
by  Pyrrho  conceded  to  be  stronger  than  theory  and  to 
bring  the  "action*"  of  the  sceptic  into  discord  with  his 
"reason." 


LBCTUBE   OF   PREP,    I,AWS.  Ml 

Hence,  uhe  is  represented  on  the  one  hand  as  a 
marvel  of  folly,  on  the  other  as  a  miracle  of  wisdom." 
For  example:  Diogenes  says  that  "he  never  shunned 
anything  and  never  guarded  against  anything,  encount- 
ering every  thing,  even  waggons  for  instance,  and  preci- 
pices, and  dogs,  and  everything  of  that  sort;  committing 
nothing  whatever  to  his  senses.  So  that  he  used  to  be 
saved  by  his  friends  who  accompanied  him."  But,  on 
the  other  hand,  Timon  in  one  verse  represents  him  as— 

"The  only  man  as  happy  as  a  god," 
Such  contradictoriness  of  representation  implies  some- 
thing more  than  an  imperfection  of  the  record;  it  seems 
to  have  arisen  from  the  practical  and  confessed  impossi- 
bility ot  acting  in  harmony  with  his  theory. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  Pyrrho  is  differently  esti- 
mated by  different  philosophers,  for  the  portraiture  of 
every  one  is  necessarily  somewhat  personal,  owing  to 
his  remains  being  second-hand,  fragmentary  and  incon- 
sistent, so  that  each  one  is  left  in  good  part  to  make  his 
sketch  from  the  colors  on  his  own  pallet.  The  fact  is, 
the  name  of  Pyrrho  is  highly  typical,  but  the  salient 
points  of  the  above  extracts  and  estimates  sufficiently  in- 
dividualize his  representative  character  as  the  father  of 
scepticism.  The  paternity  of  many  subsequent  specula- 
tions is  traceable  to  him.  In  the  17th  century,  the 
authors  of  the  Port  Roval  Logic  placed  the  following 
estimate  on  this  system  : 

There  are  no  absurdities  too  groundless  to  find  supporters. 
Whoever  determines  to  deceive  the  world,  may  be  sure  of  finding 
people  who  are  willing  enough  to  be  deceived,  and  the  most  absurd 
follies  always  find  minds  .to  which  they  are  adapted.  After  seeing 
what  a  number  are  infatuated  with  the  follies  of  judicial  astrology, 
and. that  even  grave  persons  treat  this  subject  seriously,  we  need 
not  be  surprised  at  anything  more.  *  *  *  We  find  others,  on 
the  contrary,  who.  having  light  enough  to  know  that  there  are  a 
number  of  tilings  obscure  and  uncertain,  and  wishing,  from 
another  kind  of  vanity,  to  show  that  they  are  not  led  away  by  the 


842  UNIVERSITY  of  Missouitr. 

popular  credulity  take  it  pride  in  maintaining  that  there  is  nothing 
certain.  They  thus  free  themselves  from  the  labor  of  examina- 
tion, and  on  this  evil  principle  they  bring  into  doubt  the  most 
firmly  established  truths,  and  even  religion  itself.  This  is  the 
source  of  Pyrrhonism  (or  scepticism)  another  extravagance  of  the 
human  mind.  *  *  *  True  reason  places  all  things  in  the  rank 
which  belongs  to  them;  it  questions  those  which  are  doubtful, 
rejects  those  which  are  false,  and  acknowledges  in  good  faith, 
those  which  are  evident,  without  being  embarrassed  by  the  vain 
reasons  of  the  Pyrrhonists,  which  never  could,  even  in  the  minds 
of  those  who  proposed  them,  destroy  the  reasonable  assurance  we 
have  of  many  things.  None  ever  seriously  doubted  the  existence 
of  the  sun,  the  earth,  the'  moon,  or  that  the  whole  was  greater 
than  the  parts.  We  may  indeed  easily  say  outwardly  with  the 
lips  that  we  doubt  of  all  these  things,  because  it  is  possible  for  us 
to  lie;  but  we  cannot  say  this  in  our  hearts.  Thus  Pyrrhonism  is 
not  a  sect  composed  of  men  persuaded  of  what  they  say,  but  a 
sect  of  liars.  Hence  they  often  contradict  themselves  in  uttering" 
their  opinion,  since  it  is  impossible  for  their  hearts  to  agree  with 
their  language.  We  see  this  in  Montaigne,  who  attempted  to 
revive  this  sect  in  the  last  (16th)  century.  *  *  *  Thus  these  dis- 
orders of  the  mind — the  one  leading  to  an  inconsiderate  belief  of 
what  is  obscure  and  uncertain,  the  other  to  the  doubting  of  what 
is  clear  and  certain — have  nevertheless  a  common  origin,  wrhich  is 
the  neglect  of  attention  which  is  necessary  in  order  to  discover 
the  truth. — pp.  2-6. 

On  the  contrary,  Prof.  Baynes  in  his  note  on  this- 
passage  of  the  Port  Royal  Logic,  holds  that  Pyrrho 
has  done  good  service  to  philosophy,  and  that  his 
"teaching  consisted  in  showing  that,  since  knowledge- 
supposes  relations,  absolute  knowledge  is  a  contradic- 
tion." But  it  must  have  been  a  questionable  service,  for 
in  his  formal  dialectics,  Pyrrho  seems  to  have  set  at  de- 
fiance the  law  <>f  identity,  by  repudiating  all  fixedness  of 
predication;  and  also  the  law  of  contradiction,  by  holding 
that  contradictions  are  entitled  to  equal  belief  and  that 
"demonstration"  is  a  fiction,  so  that  "nothing  is  any 
more  this  than  that;"  and  as  to  the  matter  or  content  of 
his  logical  forms,  he  held  that  the  "first  principles  ot  all 
things  have  no  reality;"  and  in  addition  to  confounding 
all  rational  distinctions,  he  equally  reduced  all  moral  dis- 
tinctions to  a  chaos  by  denying  that  anything   is  "honor- 


LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  343 

able  or  disgraceful,  just  or  unjust,  good  or  bad."  Cer- 
tainly language  must  have  lost  all  reliable  significance, 
or  such  radical  and  sweeping  negations  are  tantamount 
to  the  overthrow  and  annihilation  not  alone  of  "absolute 
knowledge"  but  of  all  knowledge-.  In  its  speculative 
attitude  as  well  as  in  its  suicidal  practical  recoil,  by  an 
appeal  to  the  irrepressible  spontaneity  of  human  nature 
in  its  common  sense  utterances  and  activities,  Pyrrho- 
nism is  a  surprisingly  complete  anticipation  of  Hume. 
In  fact,  this  Scotch  sceptic  and  historian,  who,  as  a  phi- 
losopher, may  be  fairly  viewed  as  Pyrrho's  alter  egoY 
seems  to  have  borrowed  the  pallet  of  the  Greek  painter; 
and  our  Scotch  professor  certainly  gives  us  a  curious 
surprise  in  making  Pyrrho  the  prototype  of  Hamilton 
instead  of  Hume. 

Let  us  now  make  an  immediate  and  silent  descent 
across  an  interval  of  two  thousand  years*  extending  from 
the  Greek  Pyrrho,  reputed  "the  true  founder  of  scepti- 
cism," to  the  Scotch  Hume  (1711- 1776),  reputed  "the 
prince  of  sceptics."  The  few  extracts  which  will  now  be 
adduced,  to  reveal  and  epitomise  his  views,  arc  of  un- 
doubted authenticity  and  genuineness,  being  in  these  re- 
spects unlike  the  conjectural  extracts  respecting  Pyrrho: 

It  seems  evident,  that  men  are  carried  bv  a  natural  instinct  or 
prepossession  10  repose  faith  in  their  senses;  and  that,  without  any 
reasoning,  or  even  almost  before  the  use  of  reason,  we  always  sup- 
pose an  external  universe,  which  depends  not  on  our  perception, 
but  would  exist,  though  we  and  every  sensible  creature  were  ab- 
sent  or  annihilated.  Even  the  animal  creation  are  governed  by  a 
like  opinion,  and  preserve  this  belief  of  external  objects,  in  all  their 
thoughts,  designs  and  actions. 

It  seems  also  evident,  that  when  men  follow  t  his  blind  and 
powerful  instinct  of  nature,  they  always  suppose  the  very  images 
presented  by  the  senses,  to  be  the  external  objects,  and  never  en- 
tertain any  suspicion  that  the  one  are  nothing  hut  representations 
of  the  other.  This  very  table  which  we  see  white,  and  which  we 
feel  hard,  i=  believed  to  exist,  independent  01'  our  perception,  and 
to  be  something  external  to  our  mind  which  perceives  it.  Our 
presence  bestows  not  being  on  it:  our  absence  does  not  annihilate 


344  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 

ti.  It  preserves  its  existence  uniform  and  entire,  independent  of 
the  situation  of  intelligent  beings,  who  perceive  or  contemplate  it. 
But  this  universal  and  primary  opinion  of  all  men  is  soon  de- 
stroyed by  the  slightest  philosophy,  which  teaches  us  that  nothing 
can  ever  be  present  to  the  mind  but  an  image  or  perception,  and 
that  the  senses  are  only  the  inlets  through  which  these  images  are 
conveyed,  without  being  able  to  produce  any  immediate  inter- 
course between  the  mind  and  the  object.  The  table,  which  we 
see,  seems  to  diminish,  as  we  remove  further  from  it:  but  the  real 
table,  which  exists,  independent  of  us,  suffers  no  alteration:  it  was 
therefore  nothing  but  its  image  which  was  present  to  the  mind. 
These  are  the  obvious  dictates  of  reason ;  and  no  man  who  reflects 
ever  doubted,  that  the  existences  which  we  sonsider,  when  we  say, 
this  house  and  that  tree,  arc  nothing  but  perceptions  in  the  mind, 
and  fleeting  copies  or  representations  of  other  existence?  which 
remain  uniform  and  independent. 

In  all  the  incidents  of  life,  we  ought  still  to  preserve  our  scep- 
ticism. If  we  believe  that  lire  warms,  or  water  refreshes,  it  is 
only  because  it  costs  too  muci!  pains  to  think  otherwise. 

Not  only  are  the  senses  thus  subverted  but  reason 
herself,  as  will  immediately  appear.     Says  Hume: 

I  have  proved  that  these  same  principles,  when  carried  further, 
and  applied  to  every  new  reflex  judgment,  must,  by  continually 
diminishing  the  original  evidence,  at  last  reduce  it  to  nothing,  and 
utterly  subvert  all  belief  and  opinion. 

Again : 

Reason  first  appears  in  possession  of  the  thione,  prescribing" 
laws,  and  imposing  maxims,  with  an  absolute  sway  and  authority. 
Her  enemy,  therefore,  is  obliged  to  take  shelter  under  her  protec- 
tion, and  by  making  use  of  rational  arguments  to  prove  the  falla- 
ciousness and  imbecility  of  reason,  produces,  in  a  manner,  a  patent 
under  her  hand  and  seal.  This  patent  has  at  first  an  authority  of 
reason,  from  which  it  is  derived.  But  as  it  is  supposed  to  be  con- 
tradictory to  reason,  it  gradually  diminishes  the  force  of  that  gov- 
erning power  and  its  own  at  the  same  time;  till  at  last  they 
both  vanish  away  into  nothing,  by  a  regular  and  just  diminution. 

"Nothing,"  nothingness  or  nihilism  is,  then,   in  Mr. 

Hume's  own  language,  the  upshot  of  his  philosophy  and 

he  follows  it  to  its  utmost  consequences: 

I  am  uneasy  to  think  I  approve  of  one  object,  and  disapprove 
of  another;  call  one  thing  beautiful,  and  another  deformed;  de- 
cide concerning  truth  and  falsehood,  reason  and  folly,  without 
knowing  upon  what  principles  I  proceed.  *  *  *  For  I  have 
already  shown  that  the  understanding,  when  it  acts  alone,  and  ac- 
cording to  its  most  general  principles,  entirely  subverts  itself,  and 
leaves  not  the  lowest  degree  of  evidence  in  any  proposition,  either 
in  philosophy  or  common  life 


LECTURE  OF    PRES.   UWS,  346 

It  >s  curious,  us  already  intimated,  that  Hume  seems 
so  servilely  to  repeat  Pyrrho.  Pyrrho  explained  his 
practical  inconsistency,  by  saying-  it  was  a  difficult  thing 
•entirely  to  put  off  humanity,  but  that  one  should  do  so 
"with  his  actions  if  possible,  and  at  all  events  with  his 
reason."  Hume  draws  the  matter  more  deftly  but,  in 
precisely  the  same  maimer,  concedes  the  practical  ab- 
surdity of  his  scheme,  thus: 

The  great  subverter  oi"  Pyrrhonism,  or  the  excessive  princi- 
ples of  scepticism,  is  action,  and  employment,  and  the  occupations 
of  common  life.  These  principles  may  flourish  and  triumph  in 
the  schools,  where  it  is  indeed  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  refute 
them.  But  as  soon  as  they  leave  the  shade,  and  the  presence  of 
the  real  objects  which  actuate  our  passions  and  sentiments  are  put 
in  opposition  to  the  more  powerful  principles  of  our  nature,  the/ 
vanish  like  smoke,  and  leave  the  most,  determined  sceptic  in  tine 
tame  condition  as  other  mortals. 

But  again : 

For  here  is  the  chief  and  most  confounding  objection  to  ex 
■eessive  scepticism,  that  no  durable  good  can  ever  result  from  it, 
while  it  remains  in  its  full  force  and  vigor. 

We  save  ourselves  from  tins  total  scepticism  only  by  means 
of  that  singular  and  seemingly  trivial  property  of  the  fancy,  by 
which,  with  difficulty,  we  enter  into  remote  views  of  things  and 
are  not  able  to  accompany  them  with  so  sensible  an  impression,  as 
we  do  those  which  are  more  easy  and  natural.  *  *  We  have 
therefore  no  choice  left,  but  betwixt  a  false  reason  and  none  at  all. 
For  my  part,  I  know  not  what  ought  to  be  done  in  the  present 
case.  I  can  only  observe  what  is  commonly  done;  which  is,  that 
this  difficulty  is  seldom  or  never  thought  of. 

Most  fortunately  it  happens,  that  since  reason  is  incapable  of 
dispelling  these  clouds,  Nature  herself  suffices  to  that  purpose,  and 
enres  me  of  this  philosophical  melancholy  and  delirium,  either  by 
relaxing  this  bent  of  mind,  or  by  some  avocation,  and  lively  im- 
pressions of  my  senses,  which  obliterate  all  these  chimeras.  I 
dine,  I  play  a  game  of  backgammon,  I  converse,  and  am  merry 
with  my  frienks;  and  when,  after  three  or  four  hours'  amusement, 
I  would  return  to  these  speculations,  they  appear  so  cold,  and 
strained,  and  ridiculous,  that  I  cannot  find  in  my  heart  to  enter 
into  them  any  further. 

Here,  then,  I  find  myself  absolutely  and  necessarily  deter- 
mined to  live,  and  talk,  and  act  like  other  people  in  the  common 
affairs  of  life.  But  notwithstanding  my  natural  propensity,  and 
the  course  of  my  animal  spirits  and  passions  reduce  me  to  this  in- 
dolent belief  in  the  general   maxims  of  the  world,  I  still  feel  such 


346  UNIVERSITY   OK   MISSOURI. 

remains  of  my  former  disposition,  thai  I  am  ready  to  throw  all 
my  books  and  papers  into  the  fire,  and  resolve  never  more  to  re- 
nounce the  pleasures  of  life  for  the  sake  of  reasoning  and  phil- 
osophy. For  those  are  my  sentiments  in  that  splenetic  humor 
which  governs  me  at  present.  I  may,  nay  I  must  yield  tc  the 
current  of  nature,  in  submitting  to  my  senses  and  understanding; 
and  in  this  blind  submission,  I  show  most  perfectly  my  sceptical 
disposition  and  principles.  *  *  No:  if  I  must:  be  a  fool,  as  all 
those  who  reason  or  believe  anything  certainly  are,  my  follies  shall 
at  least  be  natural  and  agreeable. 

The  foregoing  extracts  must  suffice  for  indicating  in 
the  main  our  estimate  of  Hume  on  the  present  occasion, 
although   it  differs   from  that  of  some  able  critics. 

Hamilton  credits  Hume  with  only  a  negative  aim 
and  result.  He  says  "The  sceptic,  qua  sceptic,  cannot 
himself  lay  down  his  premises;  he  can  only  accept 
them  from  the  dogmatist.1'  *  *  "Hume  was  a  sceptic; 
that  is,  he  accepted  the  premises  afforded  him  hy  the 
dogmatist  and  carried  these  premises  to  their  legitimate 
consequences.  To  blame  Hume,  therefore,  for  not  hav- 
ing doubted  of  his  borrowed  principles,  is  to  blame  the 
sceptic  for  not  performing  a  part  altogether  inconsistent 
with  his  vocation."  Now,  it  should  be  borne  in  mind* 
that  Berkely  had  already  destroyed  matter,  and  that 
Hume  undertook  to  show  that,  by  the  same  process,  or 
by  parity  of  reasoning,  the  destruction  of  mind  was 
inevitable.  His  fundamental  position  was  expressed  thus* 
"All  the  perceptions  of  the  human  mind  resolve  them- 
selves into  two  distinct  kinds,  which  I  call  impressions 
and  ideas.  The  difference  betwixt  them  consists  in  the 
degrees  of  force  and  liveliness  with  which  they  strike 
upon  the  mind  and  make  their  way  into  our  thought  or 
consciousness.  Those  perceptions  which  enter  with 
most  force  and  violence,  we  may  name  impressions^  and 
under  this  name  1  comprehend  all  our  sensations,  pas- 
sions nnd  emotions,  as  they  make  their  first  appearance 
in  the  soul.    By  ideas,!  mean  the  faint  images  of  these  in* 


L.KCTCKE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  347 

thinking  and  reasoning."  Matter  and  mind  are  resolved 
into  a  congeries  of  impressions  and  their  fading  pictures, 
so  that  the  sum  total  of  knowledge  is  phenomenal  and 
only  phenomenal.  As  already  explained,  this  is  nihilism. 
Hume  swept  away  both  matter  and  mind  as  substantive 
realities,  and  in  spite  of  his  utterly  discrediting  reason, 
his  speculations  then  took  a  positive  phase,  and  ou  the 
basis  indicated  in  the  above  extract,  respecting  "impres- 
sions and  ideas,"  he  constructed  a  complete  system  of  the 
human  mind.  If  the  office  of  a  sceptic  be  purely  nega- 
tive, then  Hume  was  something  more  than  a  sceptic,  for, 
unlike  Pyrrho,  he  assumed  the  aggressive  role  of  a  posi- 
tive constructive  philosopher.  And  sto  successful  was  he 
in  this  as  to  reduce  the  world  to  the  alternative  of  ac- 
cepting his  positive  system  of  phenomenalism  or  of  re- 
constructing its  philosophy,  and  the  most  notorious  fea- 
ture of  the  philosophy  of  the  present  is  the  fact  that  its 
votaries  mainly  fall  into  two  groups,  those  who  stand 
with  Hume  in  his  phenomenalism  or  positiveism  and 
those  who  antagonize  it  and  stand  with  Reid  and 
Hamilton  in  their  realism.  Hamilton  says:  "The  dilem- 
ma of  Hume  constitutes,  perhaps,  the  most  memorable 
crisis  in  the  history  of  philosophy;  for  out  of  it  the 
whole  subsequent  metaph)'sic  of  Europe  has  taken  its 
rise."  The  actual  dilemma  was,  as  I  have  stated  it,  the 
alternative  between  nihilism  and  realism  or  phenome- 
nalism and  noumenalism.     The  battle  still  rages. 

Hume  was  a  Pyrrohonist,  but  he  was  more  than  a 
Pyrrohonist;  he  was  a  sceptic,  but  he  was  more  than  a 
sceptic;  his  criticism  resulted  not  only  in  destructive  ni- 
hilism, but  in  constructive  nihilism.  As  a  sceptic  his  aim 
was  destructive  and  it  succeeded  in  knocking  many 
false  props  from  under  knowledge,  but  his  renewal 
of  the  daring   and  sacnhgious   attempt   to   destroy  the 


848  UNIVERSITY    OP   MISSOURI. 

temple  of  knowledge  itself,  was  a  failure;  yea,  his  !>old 
assault  only  resulted  in  the  foundations  of  knowledge 
being  laid  deeper  and  broader.  But  as  Pascal  happily 
says,  and  we  have  seen  it  illustrated  in  both  Pyrrho  and 
Hume, — "Nature  subverts  scepticism  and  reason  sub- 
verts dogmatism:" 

Truth  crushed   tu  earth  will  rise  again, 
The  eternal  years  of  God  are  hers. 

The  third  name  mentioned  as  in  the  van  ot  nihilism, 
was  that  of  J.  G.  Fichte,  1762-1514,  A.  D.  He  did  not 
professedly  play  the  role  of  the  sceptic,  but  his  idealistic 
dogmatism  is  even  a  more  thoroughgoing  nihilism  than 
that  oi"  either  Pyrrho  or  Hume.  The  following  re- 
markable passage  from  Fichte's  "Bestimmung  des  raen- 
schen,"  tells  the  whole  story  : 

The  sum  total  is  this:  There  is  absolutely  nothing  perma- 
nent either  without  me  or  within  me,  hut  only  an  unceasing 
change.  I  know  absolutely  nothing  of. any  existence,  not  even  of 
my  own.  I  myself  know  nothing  and  am  nothing.  Image* 
(Bilder)  there  are;  they  constitute  all  that  apparently  exists,  and 
what  they  know  of  themselves  is  after  the  manner  of  images; 
images  that  pass  and  vanish  without  then  being  aught  to  witness 
their  transition;  that  consist  in  fact  of  the  images  of  images,  with- 
out significance  and  without  an  aim.  I  myself  am  one  of  these 
images;  nay,  I  am  not  even  thus  much,  but  only  a  confused  image 
of  images.  All  reality  is  converted  into  a  marvellous  dream, 
without  a  life  to  dream,  and  without  a  mind  to  dream;  with  a 
dream  made  up  only  of  a  dream  of  itself.  Perception  is  a  dream; 
thought — the  source  of  all  the  existence  and  all  the  reality  which 
I  imagine  to  myself  of  my  existence,  of  my  power,  of  my  desti- 
nation— is  the  dream  of  that  dream. — H's  Reid,  p.  129*. 

Such  an  utteranee  as  this  one  oi  Fichte  has  on  the 
individual  mind  a  soporific  influence  and  recalls  the  Nir- 
wana,  the  Hindoo  doctrine  of  the  individual  souPs 
extinguishment  oy  being  blown  out  like  a  lamp  in  the 
phraseology  of  Buddhism,  that  ancient  system  of  Nihil- 
ism.    (Max  Midler's  Chips,  I.  279,  280.)' 

Travelers  sometimes  call  our  attention  to  a  most  re- 
markable phenomenon  of  nature  which  we,  after  the 
French,  call  a  mirage.     At  one  time,  it  may  be  the  ap- 


LHCTX7BK    OF   PKK6,    LAWS.  349 

pearance  of  pools  and  lakes  of  water  in  sandy  and  desert 
places  where  water  is  most  needed  and  least  likely  to 
occur;  at  another,  it  may  be  a  calm  flowing  water,  re- 
flecting from  its  unruffled  .surface  the  trees  growing  on 
its  banks,  while  objects  in  the  background  assume  the 
appearance  of  splendid  residences  amidst  groves  of 
trees,  or  of  castles  embosomed  in  a  forest  of  palms  with 
outlying  lakes  dotted  with  verdant  and  beautiful  little 
islands.  The  illusion  is  often  so  perfect  in  all  its  circum- 
stances that  the  most  experienced  travelers  and  even  the 
natives  of  the  desert  are  deluded  by  it;  and  an  experi- 
enced eastern  traveler  observes,  that  "no  one  can 
imagine,  without  actual  experience,  the  delight  and  eager 
expectation,  followed  by  the  most  intense  and  bitter  dis- 
appointment, which  the  appearance  of  the  mirage  often 
occasions  traveling  parties,  particularly  when  the  supply 
of  water  which  they  are  obliged  to  carry  with  them  on 
their  camels  is  nearly  or  quite  exhausted." 

"Still  the  same  burning  sun!  no  cloud  in  heaven! 
"The  hot  air  quivers,  and  the  sultry  mist 
"Floats  o'er  the  desert,  with  a  show 
"Of  distant  waters  mocking  their  distress." 

The  phantom  ship,  which  the  early  colonists  of  our 
country  beheld  in  the  air,  as  a  supposed  divine  interposi- 
tion in  answer  to  their  earnest  cries  to  heaven  for  sup- 
plies to  meet  their  desperate  necessities,  was  but  a  mock- 
ing mirage.  But  may  we  not  in  all  seriousness  ask, 
whether  the  delusion  of  those  who  transmute  these 
empty  images  into  substantial  realities  is  any  greater 
than  the  delusion  of  those  who  change  the  life  sustaining 
realities  of  the  universe  into  the  splendid  mockery  of  a 
sceptical  mirage.  Surely  it  is  a  much  more  pleasing 
service  which  the  great  Shemitic  peer  of  the  Aryan 
Homer,  renders,  when,  in  his  vision,  he  holds  before  us 
the  literal  realization  of  actual  blessings  as  surprising  as 


850  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI 

the  conversion  of  the  illusion  of  the  mirage  into  a  sub- 
stantial reality: 

Then  shall  be  unclosed  the  eyes  of  the  blind; 
And  the  ears  of  the  deaf  shall  be  opened : 
Then  shall  the  lame  bound  like  a  hart, 
And  the  tongue  of  the  dumb  shall  sing: 
For  in  the  wilderness  shall  burst  forth  waters, 
And  torrents  in  the  desert: 
And  the  glowing  sand  shall  become  a  poll, 
And  the  thirsty  soil  bubbling  springs. 

Let  us  rather  welcome  an  excess  of  realism  than 
the  hollow  and  unatural  emptiness  of  nihilism. 

In  the  spring  of  1874,  James  Parton,  the  well 
known  author,  was  elected  President  of  the  "N.  Y. 
Liberal  Club,"  and  on  assuming  the  chair,  among  other 
things,  said:  "Here  we  are,  this  human  race  of  ours, 
tossed  upon  this  round  ball  of  earth,  naked  and  shel- 
terless, sent  rolling  through  space.  Why? — we  don't 
know;  whence? — we  don't  know;  and  whither? — we 
don't  know, — that  is  to  say,  I  don't  know.  If  there  are 
any  here  so  fortunate  as  to  know,  I  tender  them  my  re- 
spectful congratulations.  But  for  my  own  part,  I  only 
clearly  know  that  I  don't  know." 

This  is  the  inevitable  outlook  of  faithless  nihilism. 
No  wonder  that  its  gloom,  which  horrified  the  mind  of 
Hume,  should  bewilder  a  Parton. 

11.     Realism: 

We  now  turn  our  thought  from  the  dreary  chaos  of 
nihilism  and  seek  a  firmer  looting  upon  the  continent  of 
realism.  I  have  often  thought  of  an  incident  when  I 
was  a  college  student.  A  letter  was  received  from  one 
of  the  last  graduating  class,  giving  a  description  of  his 
experience  in  a  new  line  of  study.  "Yes  boys,"  said 
George,  "I  am  studying  Hebrew;  but  I  feel  like  a  blind 
sheep  in  a  millpond,  for  I  can  neither  see  shore  nor 
touch  bottom."     The  fact  was,  George  was  not  a  very 


TiECTURK   OF    PKES,    LAWS.  351 

apt  scholar  in  language;  the  difficulty  was  subjective  and 
not  objective,  for  this  language  is  remarkable  for  its  sim- 
plicity and  perfection.  And  thus  it  is  that  the  nihilist 
flounders,  for  to  him  the  moral  and  physical  reality, 
order  and  beauty  of  nature  are  a  chaos — 

"A  dark 
Illimitable  ocean,  without  bound, 

Without  dimension,  where  length  breadth  and  height, 
And  time  and  place,  are  lost;  where  endless  night 
And  chaoe,  ancestors  of  Nature,  hold 
Eternal  anarchy-" 

It  is  important  at  this  point  to  recall  the  view  that 
consciousness  is  the  great  storehouse  of  the  materials, 
the  lountain  of  the  stream,  the  Bible  of  Philosophy. 
Consciousness  is  sometimes  vaguely  and  popularly  used 
for  what  may  at  any  time  have  been  a  distinct  matter 
of  knowledge,  as,  I  am  not  conscious  of  ever  having 
made  the  remark  attributed  to  me;  and  then,  it  has  been 
understood  in  the  too  narrow  sense  of  a  particular  fac- 
ulty coordinate  with  other  particular  faculties  and  whose 
function  or  office  it  is  to  take  note  of  their  operations; 
whereas,  the  better  view  esteems  consciousness  as  the 
root  of  our  intelligence,  so  that  the  particular  powers 
are  only  the  modifications  or  sharers  in  common,  each  in 
its  measure,  of  its  vitality  and  energy.  This  generic  view 
as  distinguished  from  the  popular  and  specific  views,seems 
to  define  the  nature  of  this  canon  of  philosophy.  But 
the  nature  and  the  sphere  of  the  activity  of  this  generic 
function  of  our  intelligent  being,  may,  for  reasons 
which  cannot  now  be  canvassed,  be  viewed  as  threefold, 
i.  e.,  (i)  phenomenal,  (2)  noumenal  and  (3)  inferential. 
However,  as  some  limit  consciousness  entirely  to  the 
facts  or  phenomena  of  experience,  the  word  intuition, 
which  means  the  power  of  the  immediate  vision  of 
truth  on  the  apprehension  of  its  evidence,  whether  that 


863  UN1VEBS1TV    OK   MISSOUKf. 

evidence  be  direct  or  mediate,  may  with  propriety  be 
made  to  do  duty  in  this  tripple  service:  and  then,  our 
phenomenal  intuition  will  coincide  with  consciousness 
and  the  noumenal  and  inferential  intuitions  will  be  distinc- 
tive. The  bearing-  of  this  will  be  evident  farther  ont 
for  as  thus  defined,  intuition  rather  than  consciousness  is 
the  true  and  valid  criterion  of  philosophy.  Of  course  the 
operation  of  intuition,  like  that  of  every  other  power,  has 
its  root  in  consciousness;  but  it  is  something  more  than 
consciousness,  just  as  each  specific  power  is  consciousness 
plus  a  defferential  element,  as  memory,  thought,  imagi- 
nation, feeling,  will,  to  all  of  which  consciousness  stands 
in  common  relation  and  each  of  which  has  its  character- 
istic and  discriminating  form  of  energy.  Consciousness 
is  not  coextensive  either  with  mind  or  with  mental 
activity. 

The  facts  of  consciousness  have  two  aspects,  as  they 
are  viewed  simply  as  phenomenal  appearances  in  some 
sense  or  other,  or  as  they  are  viewed  as  evidencing  some- 
thiug  other  than  themselves.  It  is  the  province  of  met- 
aphysics to  consider  at  large  these  facts  of  consciousness, 
subjectively  or  internally  in  relation  to  the  mind  know- 
ing, and  objectively  or  externally  in  relation  to  the  things 
known.  Psychology  is  the  science  of  both  classes  of 
these  facts  of  consciousness,  as  such,  inter  se\  but  ontol- 
ogy deals  with  these  facts  in  relation  to  realities  existing 
out  of  consciousness.  When  these  facts  are  vacated  of 
all  substantial  import,  the  world  is  an  empty  plantasma- 
goria  and  the  result  is  nihilism;  when  credited  with  sub- 
stantive validity,  in  whatever  measure,  a  corresponding 
realism  is  the  result. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  we  have  three  specific  forms  of 
realism,  viz.,  the  unitarian,  the  dualistic  and  the  theistic. 
Each  of  these  must  be  briefly  expounded. 


LECTURE    OF    PK;-.^.    f.AW't,'.  368 

i.     Unitarian   realism.     This    holds    that   1 
nomena  of  consci  re  of  the 

primary  fact  of  k 

that   this    :  single.       •    . 

varh  •  brm   of  realism.  irst  is 

idea'!     •.    w        h  mal  ind         :  ■  ; 

secoi.  '  .  ■        terialism,  which 
stance;  and  of  al 

views  the  proper  th   mind 

common  properti< 
ing  substance.     J  •      ■ 

a  bri   .   •  and  in  tl 

('  i.)       The    first,    then,    is  .  , 

and  only    substantial  ind. 

]  '  ii  of  nunc!,    as  a    thin  tantive    re- 

ality, is   pla<  I  doubt  by  a  uun- 

•n.       Lut    us      Irop     the 
doubt;  and,   \  tdly 

the 
exteri    .  own  exi 

it  is  said  that  all 

the  doul  t  itselt  is  ex   epted   which  did  put  a  else 

i  obvi  ■  to  overth] 

i tsel f,  1  .    i        •   .  i    tin  • 

;'  as  an  ultii  ,i.      j-;U( 

doubting  is  consci 

Now,  to  made  and  be- 

lieved to  s,  as  this  act  of  thin! 

s    in        a  the    :;  i  of  ■   menal  intuiti  be  think- 

ing self  is  cognize         >l    b  Irom  this  fact,  but 

directly,  instantaneously,  and  necessarily   by  a  power  of 
the   mind   which   J.   have  ventu      1  loumenal 

intuition.     As    ordinarily     interpreted,    we    cannot:    be 
conscious  of  self  but  only    of  the   mental    modification 


354  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

through  which  self  is  mediately  known  or  inferred:  just 
-as  we  are  not  conscious  of  our  mental  powers  them- 
selves, but  only  of  their  actions:  whereas,  there  seems 
evidently  to  be  an  endowment  directly  cognizing  self 
cuid  its  powers,  as  the  logical  antecedant  or  apriori  con- 
dition of  intuiting  their  operations,  and  this  endowment 
is  made  distinctive  and  intelligible  by  designating  it  the 
noumenal  intuition.  However,  if  the  function  of  con- 
sciousness itself  be  extended  so  as  to  embrace  it,  very 
well,  provided  it  is  understood. 

This  exposition  covers  the  ground  of  Descartes' 
Cogito,  ergo  sum.  This  expression  is  sometimes  viewed 
as  an  enthymeme,  or  syllogism  with  one  premise  sup- 
pressed; and  by  supplying  it,  the  full  argument  would 
be:  whatever  thinks  exists;  I  think;  therefore,  I  exist. 
But  the  major  premise,  whatever  thinks  exists,  is  an  ab- 
stract universal  proposition,  and  therefore  it  is  not  in  its 
primary  and  spontaneous  form.  The  necessity  and  im- 
mediacy of  the  conjunction  of  thought  and  self  are  just 
as  imperative  in  the  original  and  concrete  particular  act 
of  consciousness  and  intuition,  as  in  the  abstract  universal 
form  of  reflection  and  logic.  The  ergo  evidently  leads 
away  from  the  original  concrete  fact,  in  its  spontaneous 
and  intuitional  form,  to  its  scientific  and  formulated 
phase;  just  as  the  proposition,  every  chcuigc  must  have  a 
cause,  is  not  the  original  fact  of  intuition  in  its  spon- 
taneous form.  The  original  judgment  contemplates 
onlv  an  individual  concrete  change,  as  necessarily  refera- 
ble to  an  antecedent  and  adequate  action  of  force;  and 
the  universal  proposition  is  not  properly  a  generalization 
upon  a  multitude  of  instances,  but  merely  the  unlimited 
statement  of  what  is  found  true  in  every  instance  of  a 
change.  The  repetitious  instances  do  not  furnish  the 
particulars  of  an  induction,  but  only  particular  illustra- 


LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  355 

tions  of  the  same  identical  primitive  concrete  judgment, 
so  that  reflection  converts  the  concrete  psychological 
judgment,  by  abstraction,  into  the  universal  logical  judg- 
ment. Just  so,  /  think  and  I  exist  is  the  primary  con- 
crete and  complex  psychological  intuition;  but  the  prop- 
osition taken  as  the  major  premise  of  Descartes'  syllo- 
gism, whatever  thinks  exists,  results  from  reflection  and 
abstraction,  but  not  from  generalization,  in  the  empirical 
sense,  which  can  only  enunciate  what  is  and  not  what 
must  be. 

If  I  am  asked  how  I  know  that  I  exist?  and  answer 
that  I  am  conscious  of  it,  the  answer  is  seen,  in  the  light 
of  the  foregoing  exposition,  to  be  valid  and  beyond  the 
reach  of  doubt.  A  fact  of  phenomenal  and  of  noume- 
nal  intuition  may  be  explained  and  illustrated,  but  can 
neither  be  proved  nor  disproved;  it  is  not  amenable  to 
logic,  but  only  to  common  sense;  and  logic  itself  is  pos- 
sible, only  on  the  assumption  of  the  priority  of  the  ex- 
istence and   authority  of  such  realities. 

Realism,  then,  has  a  sure  footing,  as  to  the  substan- 
tial reality  of  self,  which  is  the  veritable  warp  of  knowl- 
edge, however  diverse  and  party  colord  may  be  its 
woof.  The  fact  of  human  thought  is  assumed  in  all 
systems  of  philosophy,  in  all  sciences  and  in  all  expe- 
rience whether  in  self  communion,  in  man's  intercourse 
with  man  or  with  all  .things  other  than  self.  This  sub- 
stantial self-hood,  which  refutes  and  survives  all  nihilism, 
is  literally  our  ftou  sto,  a  sure  footing  in  the  domain  of 
reality,  to  which  we  gravitate  by  the  necessities  of  our 
rational  nature  and  from  which  all  imagined  escapes  are 
illusory  self-deceptions.  Self  is  the  terra  fir  ma  of 
thought,  from  which  our  rational  nature  can  no  more 
escape  than  our  bodies  from  the  operation  of  the  law  of 
gravitation. 


356  TjNIVKKStTY    OF    MISSOURI. 

just  been  '  h  is  the  truth,  but 
it  is  not  the  whole  truth.  Idealistic  unitarian  realism 
admits  only  the  real  or  -  inti  1  exis  :nce  of  mind, 
but  denies  the  substantial  nee  of  matter.      A   few- 

citations   from   Bishop  Berkeley   will   complete   all  that 
need  be  said  at  present  on  this  point: 

The  table  I   write  on,  1    sa      e  that  is,  f   see  and   f 

ami  if  I   were  out  of  my  study  I  should  say   it  existed,  meaning 
thereby   that  it  1    was   in   my  studj    !  :eive  it,  or  that 

some  other  spirit  actually  does  "'  *      ["his  is  all  that  I 

can  understand  by  these'and  th  ions.     For  as  to  what 

is  said  of  the  absolul  tee  of  un thin  without  any 

relation  to  their  1  rceived,  tha  ';    unintelligi- 

ble    Their  esse   is  percipi,  nor  ;  e  uld  have' 

any  exist,-  r  thinking  I  ,-hich  perceive 

them . 

imongsl    men, 
that  houses,  mountains,  ri       -.  a  word  all  sensible  objects- 

have  a  real,         inct   from   th  \  per- 

ceived b\  die  understanding.      Bui    with  •  urance 

andacqi  this  principle  i  rtained  in  the 

world;  ve  "    shall  And  in  his  heart  to  call  it  in  question, 

may,  if  "In  ceive  to  im  ;t  contradiction. 

Some  trutl  '''!at  a 

man  need  only  open  his  eves  to  :  m  Such  1  take  this  im- 
portant one  to  be,  to-  wit,  that  al  •'  llurniture 
of  the  earth,  in  a  word  ■  -  the" 
mighty  frame  of  the  world,  ha  •  'nee  without  a 
mind,  that  the  ■  '  known ;  that  conse- 
quently so  long  as  they  -  ,  or  do 
not  exist  in  my  mind  or  tha  •  I  spirit,  the} 
must  either  hav  '  at  all,  or  <  t  in  the  1  dnd  of 
some  eternal  spirit:  it  being  perfectly  uni  ie  and  involving 
all  the  absurdity  of  abstraction,  to  attribi  te  1  rt  of 
them  an  existence  independent  of  a  spirit.  To  be  convinced  of 
which  the  reader  need  only  reflect  and  try  to  in  his  own 
ihoughts  the  being  o                ■  le  thing  from  its  being  perceived. 

From    what  has  been   said,  it  follows    there  is  not  any  other 
substance  than    spirit,  or  that  which  pel    t  i 

Bishop  Berkeley  is  acknowledged  to  be  a  represen- 
tative idealistic  realist,  and  the  language  of  these  ex- 
tracts is  too  explicit  to  admit  of  any  question  that,  whilst 
he  gave  to  the  external  world   a  phenomenal   and   appa- 


LECTURE    OF  PBES.  LAWS.  357 

rent  reality,  he  utterly  denied  its  non-spiritual  .substantial 
reality  and  held  that  "there  is  not  any  other  substance 
than  spirit."  But  in  his  mind  there  was  no  question 
about  the  individual  substantial  reality  of  an  infinite 
spirit  or  God,  and  of  finite  spirits.  Matter  is  a  phenom- 
enon of  mind. 

(2.)  The  second  form  of  unitarian  realism  goes  to 
precisely  the  opposite  extreme  -and  holds  th;:t  "there  is 
not  any  othei  substance"  than  matter.  Materialism, 
co.i:-  me  .  ••  -,  ond  form  of 
unitarian  realism  is  most  familiarly  known.  As  in 
idealism,  or  philosophic  spiritualism,  all  the  phenomena 
of  matter  are  explained  •  phenomena  of  mind, 
so  in  materialism,  all  the  ph<  1  of  mind  are  ex- 
plained awa  1  nomena  o  .  The  unitarian 
psychologists  reai  .  explaining  all  knowl- 
edge   as  <             nsformed    sensations,  whether 

the  phi i.  which  this  magical  transmu- 

tation is.  1  flection  of  Locke,  the  associa- 

tion of  others,  or  the  two  combined.  Nihil  est  in  in- 
tellectzt  quod  non  fitit  prius  in  sensu — there  is  nothing 
in  the   inti  which   was   not  previously  a  sensation,. 

This  is  the  aci  .iom  of  all  such  as  hold  thus  view. 

This  adag  ly  and  universal  rule  for  interpre- 

ting,    ..  .  .  of  coi    pious- 

ness. It  has  been  wittily  observed  of  the  associational 
psychologists,  that  "whenever  one  of  their  fundamental 
assumptions  is  contradicted  by  the  experience  of  man- 
hood, it  is  easy  to  say  thai  in  infancy — a  period  of  which 
anything  .  firmed,  since  nothing  is  remembered 

— it  was  strictly  true.  This  is  certainly  making  the 
most  of  early  years.  The  small  child  is  put  into  the 
association  mill,  and  after  a  little  brisk  grinding  13 
brought   out   with   a   comnlete   set   of  mental    furniture. 


358  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 

When  the  critic  reaches  the  spot  he  is  blandly  told  that 
the  work  is  done,  and  the  machinery  put  away.  He  is 
further  warned  that  any  search  on  his  part  will  be  use- 
less; as  the  traces  of  manufacture  have  been  entirely 
obliterated."  The  cultivators  of  various  branches  of 
physical  science  are  much  given  to  this  materialistic 
realism.  In  that  little  book  entitled  "The  Unseen  Uni- 
verse," which  made  a  sensation  at  the  time  of  its  anony- 
mous publication,  but  which  is  now  known  to  be  the 
joint  product  of  the  distinguished  physicists  Stewart  and 
Tait,  the  case  is  put  in  the  following  striking  language: 

Is  there  not,  therefore,  a  reality  about  matter  which  there  is 
not  about  mind?  Can  we  conceive  a  single  particle  of  matter  to 
go  out  of  the  universe  for  six  or  eight  hours  and  then  to  return  to 
it;  but  do  we  not  every  day  lisee  our  consciousness  disappearing" 
in  the  case  of  deep  sleep,  or  in  a  swoon,  and  then  returning  to  us 
again?  Far  be  it  from  us  to  deny  that  we  have  something  which 
is  called  consciousness,  and  is  utterly  distinct  from  matter  and  the 
properties  of  matter,  as  these  are  regarded  in  Physics.  But  may 
not  the  connection  between  the  two  be  of  this  nature? — When  a 
certain  number  of  material  particles,  consisting  of  phosphorus, 
carbon,  oxygen,  hydrogen,  nitrogen,  and  perhaps  some  others,  are 
in  consequence  of  the  operations  of  their  physical  forces,  in  a 
certain  position  with  respect  to  each  other,  and  in  a  certain  state 
of  motion,  consciousness  is  the  result,  but  whenever  this  connec- 
tion is  brought  to  an  end,  there  is  also  an  end  of  consciousness 
and  the  sense  of  individual  existence,  while  however  the  particles 
of  phosphorus,  carbon,  etc.,  remain  as  truly  as  ever. 

Now  this  means  that  matter  must  be  looked  upon  as  mis- 
tress of  the  house,  and  consciousness  as  an  occasional  visitor 
whom  she  permits  to  take  of  her  hospitality,  turning  him  out  of 
doors  whenever  the  larder  is  empty.  It  is  worth  while  to  investi- 
gate the  process  of  thought  which  gives  rise  to  this  curious  con- 
ception of  the  economy  of  the  universe. 

In  his  work  on  the  "Diseases  of  the  Nervous  Sys- 
tem," which  is  widely  circulated  among  the  medical  pro- 
fession, Dr.  Hammond  "looks  at  the  brain  as  a  complex 
organ  evolving  a  complex  force — the  mind."  Again  he 
says: 

The    mind,    therefore,    as    before    stated,  is    a    compound  force 
evolved   by  the  brain,  and  its   elements  are  perception,    intellect, 


LECTURE    OF   PRES.    LAWS.  359 

emotion  and  will.  The  sun  likewise  evolves  a  compound  force, 
and  its  elements  are  light,  heat  and  actinism.  One  of  these  forces, 
light,  is  again  divisible  into  several  primary  colors,  and  the  intel- 
lect of  man,  one  of  the  mental  forces,  is  made  up  of  faculties.  It 
would  be  easy  to  pursue  the  analogy  still  further,  but  enough  has 
been  said  to  indicate  how  clearly  the  relationship  between  brain 
and  mind  is  that  of  matter  and  force. 

The  false  intellectual  conception  is  then  a  fixed  result  of  the 
_  altered  brain  tissue,  and  is  just  as  direct  a  consequence  of  cerebral 
action  as  is  a  thought  from  a  healthy  brain. 

My  own  idea  of  insanity  is  based  entirely  on  the  fact,  that  as 
the  healthy  mind  results  from  the  healthy  brain,  so  a  disordered 
mind  comes  from  a  diseased  brain. 

In  Vol.  I,  of  Prof.  Flint's  Physiology,  the  follow- 
ing admirable  passage  from  Longet  is  quoted  with  ap- 
proval : 

In  his  psychical  relations,  but  in  these,  only,  man  can  constitute 
a  distinct  kingdom.  Physiology  has  especially  in  view  the  acts 
which  assimilate  man  to  animals;  it  belongs  to  psychology  to 
study  and  make  known  the  faculties  which  separate  him  from 
them. 

In  Vol.  IV,  published  a  number  of  years  later,  it  is 
laid  down  in  the  text,  p.  377,  "that  there  is  and  can  be 
no  intelligence  without  brain  substance.  *  *  *  The 
brain  is  not,  strictly  speaking,  the  organ  of  the  mind, 
but  the  mind  is  produced  by  the  brain  substance." 

Dr.  Maudsley  criticises  the  proposition  of  Cabanis, 
"that  the  brain  secretes  thought  as  the  liver  secretes  bile," 
because,  he  says,  mind,  the  product  of  brain  action,  can- 
not, like  bile,  the  product  of  liver  action,  "be  observed 
and  handled  and  dealt  with  as  a  palpable  object."  *  *  * 
"Nevertheless,"  he  states,  "it  must  be  distinctly  laid 
down,  that  mental  action  is  as  surely  dependent  on  the 
nervous  structure  as  the  function  of  the  liver  confessedly 
is  on  the  hepatic  structure."  It  would  seem,  then,  that 
Cabanis  and  Hammond  and  Flint  and  Maudsley,  not  to 
extend  the  list,  hold  substantially  the  same  view  of  mind, 
as   a   mere  phenomenal   function   of  the   nervous  tissue. 


860  UNIVERSITY    OF  MISSOURI. 

At  death  the  stomach  will  cease  to  secrete  gastric  juice, 
the  liver  will  stop  secretin;;-  bile,  and  n-^rve  tissue — 
"brain  substance"  —  will  no  longer  fun  I  late  and 
evolve  mind-  •   to  be  passed  in, 

silence  and  yi  'tendon  of  the 

most  unwary.  But  it  is  the  object,  in  this  connection, 
only  to  submit  a  state  iment:  and  hence 

it -is  to  mention  to  you,  that  in  a  th  sis   on  the 

"Dual  (  ini;  of  Mai    ';         ich  is  is   accessible 

to  you,   I   ha\  I  ibis  pre:  <         si    ,  as  to  the  re- 

lation of  mind  to  our  nervous  h  and  shown,  that 

it  is  not  a  function  but  a  furictioner  of  nerve  force. 

Prof.  Huxh  :     "There  r      on  to  be- 

lieve that  consciousness  is  a  fu  /mis  matter." 

— (Huxley's  I  '  -o.) 

Prof.  Ty  the  pi    sical  life  dealt 

with  •'    Darwin,  then   i        psycl  ical  life  presenting 

similar  gradations,  and i  solution.** 

I  descern  in  that  matte    ■  '  therto  covered 

opprobrium,  the  pro  f  all  terres- 

trial  life." — (]  /ised    by   auth  .80 

and  89.) 

.  ;scartes'  death,  Thom       Elobbes 

of  Main  '..shed    the  from 

whir';  lade: 

ton,  is  the  con- 
stant *  *  *  I  words 
Bod1  Micd, 
Substance 

mosi.  general  ' 

some  .                                                         ;.    *  *  *    The   i  so   is 

•»  * 

And  '  and  Body 

signi:  incorporeal! 

are  v  destroj  one 
another,  as  if  a  man  should  say,  "An  Incoi 

But  Hobbes  had      .  his  studies  in  Paris,  where 


I»ECTTJRE      r    PKES.    fcAWS.  Sf/1 

he  was  in  constant  intercourse  with  Gassendi  (1592-1655) 
who  attempted  the  revival  of  Epicureanism  and  is 
"styled  the  renewer  in  modern  times  of  systematic  ma- 
terialism." The  influence  ol  ;e  two  names,  for  more 
than  two  hundred  years,  over     '         .  ■ '"  i  .      :   who 

have  sympathized  with  or  repeated  their  futile  attempt 
to  solve  the  problem  of  knowledge  by  clothing  matter 
with  the  attributes  of  mind,  thus  cutting'  instead  of 
untying  the  Gordian  knot,  hi  trans<  led  consciousness 
and  computation. 

(3.)  The  third  form  of  realistic  '  "ianism  possesses 
a  present  interest,  exceeding  tl  •  ither  of  the  other 
two  forms.  Those  who  stai  .  this  "  md  do  not  at- 
tempt to  destroy  the  substantiality  of  matter  by  making 
it  a  phenomenon  of  mind,  :      lid  tl  tic  Berkeley; 

nor  the  sul    .      tiality  oi  mind  by   .  phenom- 

enon of  matter,  as  did  the  materiali  bes;  nor  the 

annihilation  of  sul    I  iid  Hume;  but  they  main- 

tain the  hy  pothesis  of  a  common  substance  to  which 
belong  equally   the  ]  tter  and    of  mind. 

This  view  is  very   plain!}  h  as  the  one  which  is 

maintained    by    Bain',  n  "Mind  and    Body,"   in 

Appleton's  I]  Series.     He  says,  in 

the  concludi  that  work: 

The  a  .   now 

entirely  lo  >nger  compatible  with  as- 

certained  science  and   cl  ng.     The  one  substance,  with 

two  cets  of  pre  two  sides,  the  physical  and  the  mental,  a 

double-faced  unity,  would  appear  to  comply  with  all  the  exigencies 
of  the  . 

It  is  in  this  immediate  connection  that  we  must  lo- 
cate the  philosophy  of  Herbert  Spencer.  As  in  the  case 
of  others,  I  will  give  you  the  opportunity  to  judge  of 
his  views  from  some  of  Ids  own  utterances,  carefully  and 
fairly  selected.     lie  says  : 

The  noumenon  everv  where  named  as   the  antithesis  of  the 


862  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI. 

phenomenon,  is,  throughout,  necessarily  thought  of  as  an  actu- 
ality. It  is  rigorously  impossible  to  conceive  that  our  knowledge 
is  a  knowledge  of  appearances  only,  without  at  the  same  time  con- 
ceiving a  reality  of  which  they  are  appearances;  for  appearance 
without  reality  is  unthinkable. — First  Principles,  2d  ed.,  §  26. 

We  come  down  then  finally  to  force  as  the  ultimate  of  ulti- 
mates.  *  *  Matter  and  motion,  as  we  know  them,  are  differently 
conditioned  manifestations  of  force. — Ibid.  §50. 

Forces  standing  in  certain  relations,  form  the  whole  content  of 
our  idea  of  matter. — Ibid.  C54S. 

The  name  you  give  me  [materialist]  is  intended  to  imply  that 
I  identify  mind  with  matter.  I  do  no  such  thing.  I  identify  mind 
with  motion. — Psychology,  2d  edi.,  §  271. 

Here  then  we  have  force,  in  Spencer's  own  and  un- 
equivocal language,  as  ultimate  and  as  standing  in  com- 
mon relation  to  matter  and  mind,  which  are  its  condi- 
tioned manifestations;  force,  therefore,  is  the  noumenon 
of  which  matter  and  mind  are  the  phenomena  and  this 
force  is  with  Spencer  that  ultimate  reality  in  which  sub- 
ject and  object  are  united. 

And  this  brings  us,  he  continues,  to  the  true  conclusion  im- 
plied throughout  the  foregoing  pages — the  conclusion  that  it  is  one 
and  the  same  Ultimate  Reality  which  is  manifested  to  us  subjec- 
tivelv  and  objectively.  For  while  the  nature  of  that  which  is 
manifested  under  either  form  proves  to  be  inscrutable,  the  order  of 
its  manifestations  throughout  all  mental  phenomena  proves  to  be 
the  same  as  the  order  of  its  manifestations  throughout  all  material 
phenomena. 

The  law  of  Evolution  holds  of  the  inner  world  as  it  does  of 
the  outer  world.  On  tracing  up  from  its  low  and  vague  begin- 
nings the  intelligence  which  becomes  so  marvellous  in  the  highest 
beings,  we  find  that  under  whatever  aspect  contemplated,  it  pre- 
sents a  progressive  transformation  of  like  nature  with  the  pro- 
gressive transformation  we  trace  in  the  Universe  as  a  whole,  no 
less  than  in  each  of  its  parts. — Psy.  1,  £  273. 

The  last  extract  which  will  be  brought  forward 
is  the  closing  language  of  First  Principles: 

Manifestly,  the  establishment  of  correlation  and  equivalence 
between  the  forces  of  the  outer  and  the  inner  worlds,  may  be  used 
to  assimilate  either  to  the  other;  according  as  we  set  out  with  one 
or  other  term.  But  he  who  rightly  interprets  the  doctrine  con- 
tained in  this  work,  will  see  that  neither  of  these  terms  can  be 
taken  as  ultimate.  He  will  see  that  though  the  relation  of  subject 
and  object  renders  necessary  to  us  these  antithecal  conceptions  of 
Spirit  and  Matter;  the  one  is  no  less  than  the  other  to  be  regarded 
as  '  sign  of  the  unknown  Reality  which  underlies  both. 


LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  363 

You  see,  then,  that  matter  and  mind  are  with  Spen- 
cer, the  two  Janus  faces  of  force;  his  hypothesis  is  some- 
thing more  than  a  dynamical  view  of  the  material 
world,  for  he  reduces  mental  phenomena  to  the  same 
root. 

There  is,  he  says,  a  fundamental  connection  between  ner- 
vous changes  and  psychical  states. 

You  think  of  me  as  seeing  no  essential  difference  between 
mind  and  the  material  properties  of  brain.  As  well  might  I  think 
of  vou  as  seeing  no  essential  difference  between  music  and  the 
material  properties  of  the  piano  from  which  it  is  evoked.  *  *  * 
As  the  motion  given  to  an  automatic  musical  instrument  passes 
through  its  specialized  structure  and  comes  out  in  the  form  of  par- 
ticular combinations  of  aerial  pulses,  simultaneous  and  successive; 
so  the  motion  locked  up  in  a  man's  food,  added  to  that  directly  re- 
cieved  through  his  senses,  is  transformed  while  passing  through 
his  nervous  system  into  those  combinations  of  nervous  actions 
which  on  their  subjective  faces  are  thoughts  and  feelings. 

Thus,  impossible  as  it  is  to  get  immediate  proof  that  feeling  and 
nervous  action  are  the  inner  and  outer  faces  of  the  same  change, 
yet,  the  hypothesis  that  they  are  so,  harmonizes  with  all  the  ob- 
served facts. — Psy.  i,  pp.  12S,  129,  621-22. 

Bear  in  mind  that  force  is  ultimate,  that  it  is  "  that 
reality  of  which  matter  and  mind  are  the  opposite  faces"; 
the  phenomena  of  consciousness  and  of  matter,  "a  shock 
in  consciousness  and  molecular  motion,  are  the  subjective 
and  objective  phases  of  the  same  thing."  Certainly  suffi- 
cient evidence  has  been  given,  to  justify  our  classification 
of  this  philosophy.  Sometimes  a  classification  is  a  vir- 
tual refutation. 

Herbert  Spencer  is  the  recognised  philosopher  of 
evolution  ;  he  is  the  queen  bee  of  the  development  hive 
and  all  the  others,  as  Tyndall,  Hasckel,  Huxley  and  Dar- 
win himself,  are  but  working  subordinates;  Darwin  is 
his  great  pack-horse  naturalist  ;  Huxley,  his  ungloved 
champion,  hitting  out  from  the  shoulder  miscellaneously; 
Tyndall  and  Hasckel  and  others  are  hewers  of  wood  and 
drawers  of  water,  whilst  a  numerous  group  of  youth 
are  acting-  as  industrious    blowers  and  strikers.     But  the 


361  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

"great  philosopher,"  us  Mr.  Darwin  calls  him,  is  the 
Vulcan  of  this  smithy  under  the  patronage  ol  the  gods, 
superior  and  inferior,of  modern  science,wherein  mechan- 
ical force  is  transmuted  into  breathing  forms  and  burn- 
ing thoughts.  Oflate,  as  never  before,  his  claims  as  the 
originator,  formulator  and  philosopher  of  the  revamped 
development  hypothesis,  known  as  Darwinism,  are  ob- 
truded on  the  public  as  quite  eclipsing  the  more  mod- 
est and  meritorious  claims  of  Darwin  himself. 

But  the  smokeof  battle  has  somewhat  cleared  away, 
reason  has  become  calm  and  resumed  the  helm,  and  the 
outlook  reveals  the  indisputable  fact  that  spontaneous 
generation  and  the  missing  links  are  the  sylla  and 
charybdis  between  which  no  divine  counsel  nor  guid- 
ance has  enab  [  thi  Ulysses  to  steer  his  barque.  The 
passage  lias  not    3  1    made;  and  the  philosophy  of 

nescience  all  not  to  know  the  way  out  of  the 

fog 

The  world  usually  proves  to  be  discriminating  and 
just,  and  our  age  will  no  doubt  be  looked  back  upon  by 
the  future  as  having  aided  but  not  as  having  superceded 
its  own  thinking.    Th<  all  al  >1  id  phal- 

anx of  scholai  tnd  thinkers  in  America,  ready 

to  accept  of  even  ibu  i  >n  to  science,  from  whatever 

source,  but  capable  ol  and 

opinions,  science  and  philosophy,  and  whose  minds  have 
never  beei  be  .  lered  by  the  glamour  of  Mr.  Spencer'g 
bold  pretensic  ch   men,  as  Henry  and  Guiot   and 

Dana  and  Agassiz  and  Dawson,  never  gave  in  their  ad- 
hesion; and  Joseph  Cook,  the  noted  Boston  Lecturer,  in 
speaking,  1S77,  °^  Harvard,  used  this  language  : 

There  i-;  a  I  ol   r   tl    ;r  small  philosophy  in   Cambridge 

yonder,  among  a  few  young  men,  who,  very  unjustly  to  Harvard, 
are  supposed  by  large  portions  of  the  public  to  represent  the  Uni- 
versity.     I  happen   to  be  a  Harvard  man,  if  you  please,  and  ought  . 


LECTURE   OK   PBES.    IjAWS.  366 

to  know  soi   ethi  my  al  aa  mater.     There  is  not  a  paving- 

•tone  or  an  elm  tree  in  Cambridge  that  is  not  a  treasure  tome. 
Who  does  represent  Harvard?  Hermann  Lotze  and  Frey  and  Beale 
rather  than  Herbert  Spencer  and  Hseckel  are  the  authorities  which 
the  strongest  men  a:  Cambridge  revere. 

And  in  the  same  course  lie  thus  speaks  of  Lotze: 

Hermann  Lotze,  now  commonly  regarded  as  the  greatest 
philosopher  of  the  most  intellectual  of  the  nations,  and  who  has 
left  his  mark  on  every  scholar  in  Germany  snider  forty  years  of 
age,  is  every  where  renowned  for  hj  ;  '.  .;  gical  as  well  as  for 
his  metaphysical  knowledge,  and  as  an  oppone  fc  of  the  mechani- 
cal theory  of  life.  Hermann  Lotze  holds  that  the  unity  of  con- 
sciousness is  a  fact  absolutely  incontrovertible  and  absolutely  inex- 
plicable on  the  theory  of  Mr.  Spencer,  that  we  are  woven  by  a 
complex  of  physical  arrangements  and  force  having  no  co< 
ting  power  presiding  over  them  all. 

And  he  also  says,  in  this  last  connection,  that  "there 
is  not  in  Germany  to-day,  except  Haeckel,  a  single  pro- 
fessor of  real  eminence  who  teaches  philosophical  ma- 
terialism." 

Yes  it  is  safe  to  notify  our  youth,  that  this  Spence- 
rian  phase  of  unitarian  realism  has  culminated  and  is 
now  waning;  and  that  the  task,  henceforth,  \vijl  be 
to  justly  appreciate  and  profit  by  its  contributions  and  its 
failure. 

The  hypothesis  of  absolute  unitarian  realism  was 
perhaps  never  more  simply  and  ingeniously  conceived 
and  enunciated  than  by  Benedict  Spinoza,  a  Holland 
Jew  (1632 — 1677,)  who  declined  salaried  and  honorable 
appointments  and  preferred  to  subsist  by  his  own  manual 
industry,  rather  than  by  implication  to  compromise  his 
rjerfect  freedom  of  thought.  He  has  been  called  a  reason- 
ing mill;  his  procedure  was  deductive  from  his  definition 
of  substance,  as  "that  which  exists  inse  and  is  conceived 
j>er  se"  i.  e.,  that  only  is  substance  which  is  self-existent 
and  single.  Postulating  that  in  the  nature  ot  the  case 
only  substance  and  its  qualities  or  modes  can  exist;  also, 
that    only  things    of    the    same    kind    can    limit   each 


366  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

other:  then,  thought  and  extension  would  only  be  empty 
abstractions,  unless  referred  as  attributes  to  the  self-exist- 
ent substance  which,  by  virture  of  being  the  only  thing 
of  its  kind,  is   unlimited  and,  hence,  infinite   and  eternal. 

This  substantive  being,  then,  involves  as  attributes,  iniinite 
thought  and  infinite  extension;  these  attributes  involve  an  infinite 
number  of  finite  determinations,  and  these  determinations  consti- 
tute the  phenomena!  world ;  those  of  the  infinite  thought  giving 
rise  to  finite  minds,  those  of  the  infinite  extension  to  all  material 
existences.  Hence  all  tilings  are  but  modes  of  the  attributes  of 
this  infinite  Being. 

The  philosophy  of  the  absolute,  convinced  that  mere  phenomu 
ena  cannot  be  self-existent  realities,  begins  by  inquiring  after  the 
principle  from  which  they  spring,  the  uniform  and  unchangeable 
basis  which  underlies  all  changing  appearances.  This  philosophy 
has  played  a  great  part  in  the  scientific  history  of  the  world.  It 
formed  the  basis  of  the  ancient  speculations  of  the  Asiatic  world. 
It  characterized  some  of  the  most  remarkable  phases  of  early 
Greek  philosophy,  particularly  that  of  the  Eleatie  school  (600  B.C.), 
founded  by  Xenophanes  the  monotheist,  but  his  monotheism  was 
pantheism  Plato,  with  all  the  lofty  granduer  of  his  sublime 
spirit,  sought  for  the  absolute  in  the  archetypes  existing  in  the  di- 
vine mind.  The  Alexandrian  philosophers  proposed  to  them- 
selves the  same  high  argument;  mingling  their  theories  with  the 
mysticism  of  the  east,  and  even  calling  to  their  aid,  the  lights  of 
the  Christian  revelation.  In  more  recent  times  Spinoza  gave  cur- 
rency to  similar  investigations,  which  were  soon  moulded  into  a 
stern  and  unflinching  system  of  pantheism ;  and  in  him  we  see  the 
model  upon  which  the  modern  idealists  of  Germany  have  renew- 
ed their  search  into  the  absolute  ground  of  all  phenomena.  The 
very  first  requisite,  therefore,  in  understanding  the  rationale  of  the 
German  philosophv  is  to  fix  the  eye  of  the  mind  on  the  notion  of 
the  absolute,  and  thus  to  pass  mentally  beyond  the  bounds  of 
changing,  finite,  conditioned  existence,  into  the  region  of  the  un- 
changeable, the  infinite  the  unconditioned.  It  is,  in  fact,  in  the 
various  methods  by  which  it  is  supposed  that  we  are  conducted  to 
the  absolute,  whether  by  faith,  intuition  or  reason,  that  the  differ- 
ent phases  of  the  German  metaphysics  have  arisen.— Morell's  Hist. 
Mod.    Phil.  411. 

Among  these  German  systems,  those  of  Schelling 
and  Hegel  have  been  most  conspicuous  in  maintaining 
"that  mind  and  matter  are  only  phenomenal  modifica- 
tions of  the  same  common  substance." 

2.  Dualistic  realism.  This  is  the  second  generic 
form  of  realism,  according  to  the  analysis  and  enumera- 


LECTURE    OF     PRES.    LAWS.  367 

tion  already  given.  The  views  under  this  head  are  also 
diverse,  but  they  may  be  arranged  in  two  groups, — (i) 
that  of  bastard  dualism,  and  (3)  that  of  legitimate  dual- 
ism. That,  however,  which  is  characteristic  of  dual- 
ism is  its  intuition  of  the  substantial  reality  of  both 
mind  and  matter,  as  coexistent  and  distinct  substances, 
each  having  its  own  attributes  and  laws  of  subsistence 
and  operation.  The  oriental  dualism  of  Zoroaster,  which 
invaded  the  thought  of  Europe  at  the  time  of  the  transi- 
tion from  the  old  to  the  new  civilization,  has  no  signifi- 
cance in  this  special  connection,  however  curious,  import- 
ant and  indispensable  it  may  be  in  the  appreciation  of 
the  ethical,  religious  and  speculative  opinions  of  the 
early  centuries  of  our  era. 

(1.)  The  three  forms  of  spurious  dualistic  realism 
which  may  be  now  noticed  are  represented  by  Descartes, 
Leibnitz  and  Brown. 

Descartes  (1596-1650)  was  a  Frenchman  and  ex- 
cogitated his  peculiar  system  of  philosophy  whilst  on 
duty  as  a  soldier.  His  mathematical  genius  placed  un- 
der obligation  all  succeeding  generations;  but  by  striking 
out  a  new  method  in  philosophy,  he  associated  his  name 
with  that  of  Socrates  and  became  the  father  of  out- 
modern  philosophy.  His  system  lives  only  as  a  curios- 
ity, but  his  method  of  appealing  directly  to  conscious- 
ness as  affording  an  impregnable  base  of  operations,  sur- 
vives and  is  not  destined  to  perish. 

In  regard  to  the  substantial  objects  of  existence, 
Descartes  recognized  one  self-existent  and  self-sufficient 
substance,  God,  and  then  matter  and  mind  as  derived 
and  dependent,  or  created  substances.  These  substantial 
entities  we  could  not  know  except  by  virtue  of  their 
possession  of  attributes;  each  substance  has  its  chief 
property,   which  constitutes    its  nature   and  essence,   and 


358  '     "  .  V    OF   MISSOURI. 

to  which  ..;    |  .  oth  :  referred.     E:  tension  in 

length,  breadth  and  depth,  nature  of  cor- 

poreal substance,  and  tho  tutes   th    nature  of 

thinking  subsl  in  Ever    oth   r  ;  which  can  beat- 

tributed  to  b  .     ision  and  is  only  some 

mode  of  an  <  ded  thing;    as   also   the  things  which 

we  find  in  the      '  only  di  pei      .  >  »des  of  thinking. 

And  ;  have  two  I  d    I  cnt  notions 

or  i.!  of  a  thii  -,  •       ther  of  a  cor- 

poreal sul  ,  pro  accurately  distinguish  all 

the   attril  >m   th       ttril    ites  oi   exten- 

sion.    (Principia,  i,  li-liv.) 

Thi  i  own  la        age;  and  we        I  at  the 

t  of  his  s  '        '  that   mind  and   matter, 

whose    %•  stitul  :d  of  thought  :tnd   ex- 

tension, whilst   coexist  >st   intimately    related, 

yet  lik  o  not  influence 

land  was  made  the  seat  of  th 
soul,  but  f  body  and  soul  i       .       f  non  in- 

tercourse.     This  ■  ■'.     triking  do      le  coi     ast  to 

;       two  opposite  extremes — that  of  <    nversion 

of  food  into  ■  id  that  oi     tcrkely's  <      iversion  of 

all  corporeal  thi  '      leas    n        eats  and 

wear  nee    of 

awA  I  by  the  icy  of 

as  each  furnisl  .-'  ;  or,  as  her  d 

it:     "It  is  God  himsell        10  by       law    which  he 
I  I,  when  movements  are  determined  in  the 

produces  anal  s   modifications'  in  the  conseios  ■  mi 

In  like  manner,  suppose  the  ;   .  volition  to  move 

the  arm;  this  volition  is,  of  itself  inefficacious,  but  God 
in  virtue  of  tl  ■  law,  causes  the  ering  motion 

in  our  limb.     The  organic  changes,  and  the  mental  mod- 
ifications, are  nothing  but  simple  conditions  and  are  not 


LKCTURK    OF    PKES,    LAWS.  369 

real    causes;  in   short    they   are   occasions    or    occasional 
causes." 

Leibnitz  (1646-1716)  was  a  German  of  amazing  ver- 
satility, originality,  breadth  and  depth  of  intellect.  His 
brilliant  speculation  as  to  the  constitution  of  mind  and 
matter  is  known  as  the  system  of  preestablished  har- 
mony, and  was  occasioned  apparently  by  the  system  of 
Descartes.  He  teaches,  in  his  system,  that  compound 
bodies  are  made  up  of  monads  which  are  the  ultimate 
elements,  the  dynamical  atoms;  that  each  soul  is  a 
monad  and  each  monad  is  a  miniature  universe,  having 
its  inherent  or  immanent  qualities  and  its  sphere  and 
series  of  allotted  activities.  Matter  and  mind  thus  con- 
stituted were,  at  the  beginning,  wound  up  like  two 
clocks,  to  run  forever  in  perfect  harmony.  All  the  con- 
ting-  iv  the  universe  were  anticipated  and  provided 
for  by  its  great  author,  and  the  involution  of  energy  and 
intelligence  was  made  equal  to  the  possible  evolution. 
The  tact  is,  Leibnitz  so  far  anticipated  Spencer  and 
Darwin  in  some  fundamental  features  of  their  specula- 
tions, that  it  has  attracted  some  attention.  According  to 
this  system  : 

God  created  the  soul  at  first  in  Mich  manner  that  it  under- 
stands and  represents  to  itself  in  corresponding  order  whatever 
passes  in  the  body;  and  the  body  also,  in  such  a  manner  that  it: 
must  do  of  itself  whatever  the  soul  requires.  Between  the  two 
substances  which  constitute  this  man,  there  would  subsist  the 
most  perfect  harmony,  ft  is  thus,  no  longer  necessary  to  devise 
theories  to  account  for  the  reciprocal  intercourse  of  the  material 
and  spiritual  substances.  These  have  no  communication,  no  re- 
ciprocal influence.  The  soul  passes  from  one  state,  from  one  per- 
ception to  another  by  virtue  of  its  own  nature.  The  body  exe- 
cutes the  series  of  its  movements  without  any  participation  or  in- 
terference of  tbe  soul  therein.     (Opera,  ed.  Erd.,  520,  a,et  al.) 

Again  he  says: 

f  will  not  make  a  difficulty  of  saying  that  the  soul  moves  the 
body:  even  as  a  Copernican  speaks  truly  of  the  rising  of  the  sun, 
a  Platonist  of  the  reality  of  matter,  a  Cartesian  of  the  reality  of 
sensible  qualifies,  provided  one   understands   them  judiciously      T 


370  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 

believe,  in  like  manner,  thai    it  is  very  true  to  sa\   thai  si    istan 
act  the  one  upon  the  other,  provided   it  '.    understood  that  the  one 
is  a  cause  of  the  changes  in  the  oth<  r   :  i  consequence  of  the  laws 
of  their  preestablished  harmony.     fErd.,  1:32,  a.) 

That  is,  it  is  proper  to  use  this  language  of  ordinary 
life,  provided  you  understand  by  it  something-  entirely 
different  from  what  is  ordinarily  understood  by  it,  for 
body  and  soul,  according  to  Leibnitz,  have  really  less  in- 
fluence on  each  other  than  two  separate  clocks  vibrating 
near  each  other.  The  feeling  of  joy  in  the  heart  and 
the  smile  on  the  face,  fear  and  palor,  all  corresponding 
bodily  and  mental  states,  are,  according  to  this  view, 
mere  coincidences.  I  will  translate  for  you  another  of 
his  own  brief  expositions  of  his  peculiar  system,  given  in 
a  letter  just  twenty  years  before  his  death  and  six  years 
subsequent  to  his  firsl  formal  disclo  liis  system   to 

Arnauld : 

You  say  that  you  do  not   understand  hoi  |   be  able  to 

prove  what  I  have  advanced  touching  the  communication  or  har- 
mony of  two  substances  so  different  as  the  soul  and  body.  I 
truly  believe  that  I  have  found  the  means  ol  doing  so:  and 
behold  how  I  undertake  to  satisfy  you. 

Figure  to   yourself  two  clocks   which  pi  Now 

that  can  be  effected  in  three  \va\  s.  The  first  consists  in  a  mutual 
influence;  the  second  is  by  assigning  to  them  a  skillful  workman 
who  may  regulate  them  and  put  them  in  accord  at  every  moment; 
the  third  is  to  make  the  two  pendulums  with  so  much  art  and 
exactness  that  one  may  be  assured  of  their  agreement  everafter. 
Put,  now,  the  soul  and  the  body  in  the  place  of  these  two  pendu- 
lums; their  agreement  can  occur  in  one  of  these  three  ways. 
(i)  The  way  of  influence  is  that  of  the  vulgar  philosophy,  but  as 
one  could  not  conceive  of  material  particles  which  can  pass  from 
one  of  these  substances  into  the  other,  it  is  necessary  to  abandon 
this  belief.  (2)  The  way  of  the  continual  assistance  of  the  Creator 
is  that  of  the  system  of  occasional  causes;  but  I  hold  that  this  is 
to  make  intervene  a  "Dens  ex  machina" — an  artificial  stage  god- 
in  a  thing  natural  and  ordidary,  where,  according  i<>  reason,  Cod 
ought  to  co-operate  only  in  the  manner  that  He  concurs  in  all 
other  things  natural.  (3)  Thus  there  rem  u'ns  only  my  hypothesis, 
that  is  to  say,  the  way  ol  harmony.  God  made,  at  the  beginning, 
each  of  these  two  substances  with  such  a  nature  that  by  following 
only  its  own  proper  laws,  which  it  has  received  with  its  being,  it 
accords  in  every  respect  with  the  other  just  as  if  there  was  a 
mutual    influence  or  as   if  God  continually  extended   to  them  an 


LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  373 

influence  beyond   his  general  concurrence.     Consequently,  1  have 
no  need   of   proving    anything,  some  one    require    thai    I 

p       .    that  God  is  sufficiently  I  •  ■  i  iploj  this     p  i  ■•.■•  nient 

artifice  of  which,    we  bee  some   spai        even  a  ■        Now, 

granting  its  possibility,  you  see   thai    this   [third]   wav   is   the  most 
beautiful  and  the  mosl  wo  I  im. 

You  have  suspected  thai  :n\  explicati  »n    ■    u    lb     o|      iscd  I 
the  idea  so  different  which   you   have  of  spirit  and   bodj  :  bul    voii 
see  in  an  instant  that  no  one  etter  estab)        d   tl      .1  ide 

pendence.     For  as  long  as  obliged   to  <        lin  1)    :    conf 

munication  as  miraculous,   occasion  lias  alwaj     been  give 
man)  people  to  fear  that  the  distinction   between   soul  and  body 
might  not  be  as  real  as  supposed,  since   the.supporl        ;     i      o  far 
fetched.     I    will   not  he  displeased  at   your  sounding  p  rsons  oi 
ction  upon  the  thoughts  which  I  have  ii;  '         I   ii  cd  to  von. 
—(Ibid,  xxv.) 

It  should  be  observed  that  Descartes  is  no!  himself 
wholly  responsible  Ibr  what  is  here  criticised  as  the  Car- 
tesian doctrine  of  assistance  or  occasional  causes,  as  Male- 
branche  and  others  endeavored  by  this  shift  to  bring  into 
consistency  such  of  his  views  as  that  of  animal  ■  organ - 
3  being  soulless  machines  and  of  providence  being  a 
■  inual  creation  :  la  conservation  et  la  creation  ne  differ- 
ent qti'au  regard  de  notre  faSon  dc  pcnsa\  et  non  ,  , 
en  effet.  (Descartes'' Oeuvres,  ed  Simon,  p.  93.)  Thej 
judged  that  we  experience  sensations  because  God  causes 
them  to  arise  in  the  soul,  on  the  occasion  of  the  movem- 
ents of  matter,  and  when,  in  its  'urn,  the  soul  wills  to- 
move  the  body,  that  it  is  God  who  moves  the  body  for 
it.  l.i  like  manner,  the  movements  among  bodies  them- 
selves is  effected  by  God  moving  out  bod)  on  occasion.  ■ 
of  the  movement  of  another  body.  (Erd.  127.)  Des- 
carte's  own  view  that  the  soul  exercised  a  directive  influ- 
ence over  the  body  and  was  susceptible  of  the  action  of 
the  animal  spirits  (Les  Pass.,  pt.  1,  §  34)  was  lost  sight  oi 
by  his  followers;  and  vet  Leibnitz:  repetitiously  appeals 
to  his  mathematics,  in  which  he  was  the  compeer  of 
Newton  and  of  Descartes,  to  prove  the  paralogism 
that  the    quantity     of  direction     is  as   fixed     in  the   un- 


.°>72  DK1VEKSITY    OF  MISSOURI. 

iverse  as  that  of  moving  force,  so  that  bodies  must 
be  just  as  independent  of  the  soul  in  their  direction 
as     in     the     quantity     of    their     moving   force;  and     he 

even  goes  so  far  as  to  express  the  opinion  that  if 
Descartes  had  known  of  this,  as  he  terms  it,  new  law 
of  nature  a-  t.<>  direction,  he  would  have  been  led  to 
the  discover}-  of"  the  system  of  pre-established  harmony. 
By  the  modified  Cartesian  system,  all  efficienc}  was  ab- 
stracted from  both  mind  and  matter  and  the  only  efficient 
operative  energy  was  that  of  (hid,  who  so  timed  and 
regulated  liis  action  in  the  lines  of  material  and  of  men- 
tal phenomena  that  they  as  perfectly  accorded  as  if  each, 
by  its  own  susceptibility,  responded  to  the  efficiency  of 
the  other.  Whereas,  in  the  system  of  Leibnitz,  this 
responsiveness  or  accordance  was  equalhj  perfect  but  it 
was  by  virtue,  no1  of  any  present  influence  of  (rod  on 
either  mind  or  matter,  nor  of  any  influence  of  either  on 
■the  other,  but  wholly  on  account  of  the  original  consti- 
tution and  stove  of  energy  lodged  in  mind  and  matter  at 
their  creation.  He  frequentl}7  objects  to  the  Cartesian 
system  that  it  makes  God  a  sort  of  stage  convenience,  for 
the  denouement  of  the  piece  by  moving  the  hod}',  ;is 
the  soul  wills,  ami  giving  peceptions  to  the  soul,  as 
the  body  requires;  and  that  thus,  in  a  most  unphilo- 
sophic  manner,  a  perpetual  miracle  is  performed  in 
maintaining  the  ostensible  intercourse  of  these  two  sub- 
stances. However  untenable  the  Cartesian  system  itself 
may  be,  I  must  he  allowed  to  quote  with  approval  the  apt 
reply  of  Bayle,  in  the  article  of  his  Dictionary  on  Rorari- 
us,  that,  nothing  can  properly  be  called  a  miracle  which 
is  brought  about  as  an  instance  of  an  established  method 
■of  procedure,  i.  e.,  according  to  law.  He  says:  "The 
system  of  occasional  causes  does  not  bring  in  (rod  act- 
ing miraculously.     1   am   as  much    persuaded  as   ever    I 


LECTURE    OK    PRES.   LAWS.  37S 

was,"  he  continues,  "that  an  action  cannot  be  said  to 
be  miraculous,  unless  God  produces  it  as  an  exception  to 
general  laws;  and  that  everything  of  which  he  is  im- 
mediately the  author  according  to  those  laws,  is  dis- 
tinct from  a  miracle  properly  so  called": — i.  e.,  as  it  was 
esteemed  by  theCartesian,  God's  ordinary  in  ode  of  oper- 
tion  could  not  in  whole  nor  in  part  be  properly  termed 
miraculous.  I  will  add  that  those  who  speak  of  the 
miracle  of  creation,  talk  wildly,  for  a  creation  is  not  a 
miracle:  a  miracle  implies,  first,  an  established  order  of 
nature,  whereas  creation,  if  it  mean  anything,  does  not 
presuppose  but  initiates  that  order;  and  second,  a 
miracle  implies  a  departure  from  or  interruption  of  the 
order  of  nature,  whereas,  in  creation,  there  is  not  yel  any 
order  to  be.  interrupted.  Hence,  to  talk  of  the  miracle  of 
creation  is  to  talk  nonsense,—]  mean  that  it  is  to  use  lan- 
guage to  which  no  intelligible  meaning  can  possibly  at- 
tach, because  of  the  contusion  of  thought  necessarily  im- 
plied. TJie  fact  is,  for  precisely  opposite  reasons,  no 
such  thing  as  a  miracle  was  possible  upon  the  hypoth- 
esis of  either  Descartes  or  Leibnitz. 

To  the  objection  urged  against  his  own  system,  that 
it  was  an  extraordinary  affair  and  had  too  little  of  God, 
whilst  he  charged  that  Cartesianism  had  too  much  of 
God,  Leibnitz  made  answer: 

jii  the  supernatural  only  at  the  beginning,  at  the 
first  formation  of  things;  after  that,  the  formation  of  animals  and 
the  relation  between  soul  and  body,  are  a.-  natural  us  the  most 
ordinary  op  rations  of  nature.     (Opera,  edit.  Erd.,  p.  476,  a.) 

The  only  question,  in  his  view,  was  as  to  the  com- 
petence an»i  wisdom  of  God  in  so  constituting  the  ele- 
ments or  monads  of  the  univcv.se  with  dynamic  powers, 
with  immanent  attributes,  as  to  place  the  resources  of 
Dei  no   farther  requisition.     If  js  easy  to  see, 

under  the  Cartesian   win.;  of  these  speculations, the  egg 


374  U  N  I VERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

of  Pantheism,  and  under  the  Leibnitzian  wing,  the  egg 
of  Atheism,  both  of  which  were  hatched  subsequently. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  Spinoza,  stopping  short  with  Des- 
cartes' definition  of  substance  as  :i  being  self  existent  and 
self  sufficient,  rejected  his  qualifications  respecting 
created  substances  and  left  God  done  as  the  sole  existent 
and  efficient  substance;  and  Leibnitz,  to  escape  this  con- 
sequence of  the  obliteration  of  the  inherent  efficiency  " 
of  second  causes,  grandly  assumed  that  God  made  the 
universe  at  its  creation  the  depository  of  immanent: 
power,  wisdom  and  all  attributes  adequate  to  all  its 
necessities  and  contingencies,  as  it  should  ever  after  flow 
outward  and  onward  in  the  commingling  but  entirely 
distinct  and  perfectly  accordant  streams  of  physical  and 
psychical  life,— thus  removing  God  so  far  from  view  as 
to  be  forgotten,  and  investing  the  universe  with  so 
much  of  God  as  to  be  substituted  by  evolutionism  in  his 
place.  Pantheism  has  always  amounted  to  the  denial  of 
any  efficient  finite  substance;  and  Atheism,  to  the 
denial,  or  removal  out  of  view  and  recognition,  of  any 
efficient  infinite  substance;  but  these  extremes  meet  in 
Atheism,  for  if  all  thing's  are  God  there  certainly  is  no 
Ood.  This,  however,  is  an  anticipation  of  theistic  rea- 
lism. 

Leibnitz's  own  estimate  of  his  system  of  dualistic 
realism,  in  which  mind  and  matter  stand  so  peculiarly 
correlated,  is  characteristic  and  points  a  moral  of  value 
to  even  the  most  gifted.  From  being  a  Cartesian  (Erd. 
p.  48,)  and  then  leaning  to  the  pantheistic  views  of 
Spinoza  (p.  206),  an  article  in  Bayle's  Dictionary  on 
Rorarius  seems  I"  have  aided  in  causing  a  recoil  which 
carried  I.eiimitz  back  through  the  camp  of  the  Carte- 
sians into  the  paradise  of  his  newly  discovered  pre-es- 
tablished harmony.     Thenceforth  he  assumed   the  sobri- 


OECTURK    OF    PRKS.    LAWS.  375 

quet  <»i  Theophilus,  the  friend  of.  God  instead  of 
Spinqzan  Atheist,  and  from  his  new  standpoint,  he 
looked  down  on  all  other  and,  as  he  esteemed  them,  in- 
ferior systems  with  an  air  of  supreme  satisfaction  and 
•complacent  triumph,  indicated  in  the  following  passage 
in  dialogue  from  the  first  chapter  of  his  elaborate  criti- ' 
cism  of  Locke's  "Essay  on  Human  Understanding:" 

(  must  tell  you  as  news,''  he  says  in  the  character  of  one  of 
the  interlocutors,  "that  I   am  no  long  artesian,  and    that    1 

am  farther  than  ever  removed  from  your  Gassendi.  I  have  been 
Struck  with  a  new  system  which  puts  a  new  face  on  the  interior 
of  things.  This  system  seems  to  alty  Pjato  with  Democritusj 
Aristotle  with  Desc  irtes,  ichol  istics  with  the    Modi  rns,  The- 

ology and  Ethics  with  reason.  It  seems  to  take  the  best  from  all 
sides  and  to  go  far  beyond  what  has  been  hitherto  attained.  1 
find  here  .an  intelligible  explanation  of  the  union  of  soul  and  body, 
a  thing  of  which  I  had  previously  despaired.  *  *  *  I  see  now 
what  Plato  meant  when  he  took  matter  for  an  imperfect  and 
transitory  existence;  what  Aristotle  understood  by  his  entelechy; 
what  is  the  promise  of  another  life,  which,  according  to  Pliny, 
Democritus  himself  was  accustomed  to  make;  how  far  the 
Sceptics  were  reasonable  in  declaiming  against  the  authority  of 
the  senses;  how  animals  are  antomatons  according  to  Descarte» 
and  yet  have  souls  and  sentiment  according  to  popular  opinion; 
how  various  others  with  a  show  of  reason  attributed  life  and  per- 
ception to  all  things;  how  the  laws  of  nature,  of  which  a  good 
part  were  unknown  before  the  birth  of  this  system,  take  their 
origin  from  principles  superior  to  matter,  although  indeed  all 
matter  acts  mechanically,  wherein  the  spiritualising  authors, 
whom  I  have  just  named,  had  blundered  even  as  the  Cartesians 
by  supposing  that  immaterial  substances  change  if  not  the  force  at; 
least  the  direction  or  determination  of  material  bodies;  whereas, 
according  to  the  new  system,  the  soul  and  the  body  perfectly  ob- 
serve their  laws,  each  its  own,  and  yet  each  obeys  the  other  so 
far  forth  as  is  necessary. 

And  thus  he  proceeds  beyond  the  limits  ot  our  fol- 
lowing him,  to  pour  forth  the  diverse  reasons  for  his  en- 
raptured exultation  over  a  system,  which  seemed  to  him 
to  gather  all  that  was  valuable  out  of  all  other  systems 
of  all  th<  ages,  to  escape  their  errors  and  to  clothe  the 
universe  and  its  supremely  exalted  Creator  in  the  glori- 
ous garments  of  the  sunlight  of  truth  itself.  To  our 
awakened  view,  this  gorgeous  speculation  of  two  centu- 


376  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

ries  ago,  is  like  the  vision  of  a  brain  intoxicated  with 
hashish.  It  was  only  a  mirage!  which  did  not  satisfy 
hut  only  mocked  the  soul  athirst  for  truth. 

The  third  phase  of  spurious  dualistic  realism  can 
only  be  conventionally  represented  by  Brown,  or  by  any 
.other  individual  name;  his  name  was  suggested  as  rep- 
resentative, mainly  because  it  has  been  made  to  bear  the 
brunt  of  the  most  terrible  onslaught  ever  made  upon 
this  philosophic  hypothesis,  which  holds  that,  whilst  the 
mind  is  intuitively  apprised  of  its  own  existence,  it  has 
no  such  intuition  of  an  external  reality  nor  of  aught 
outside  of  or  other  than  the  mind  itself  and  its  modifica- 
tions; but  at  the  same  time,  as  a  matter  of  unfaltering 
faith,  it  holds  to  the  reality  of  matter  and  of  an  external 
world.  We  know  self,  but  only  believe  in  not  self.  This 
is  a  hybrid  dualism.  From  Empedocles,  500  B.  C,  down- 
ward, the  vicious  axiom  has  been  widely  accepted  that 
like  is  only  known  by  like  —that  the  object  known  must 
be  of  a  nature  like  that  of  the  knowing  mind.  Hence, 
cither  a  mental  modification  has  been  taken  as  the  sym- 
bol of  the  outlying  externa!  reality  supposed  to  exist  in 
answer  to  it,  or  else  some  refined  species  or  filmy,  un- 
substantial, natural  or  supernatural  tcrtium  quid,  has 
been  installed  as  mediating  between  the  knowing  mind 
and  the  external  world — between  the  ego  and  the  ex- 
ternal no)i    ego,  between  mind  and    matter. 

This  acceptance  of  mind  as  certainly  existing  he- 
cause  known  intuitively,  and  of  matter  as  only  suppposed 
or  conjectured  to  he  as  the  suitable  explanation  of  a 
knowledge  we  may  have  of  something  other  than  itself,, 
which  represents  it(or  suggests  it  to  the  knowing  mind,, 
places  matter  on  a  different  footing  from  mind,  by  ex- 
cluding it  from  the  pale  of  intuition  or  immediate  knowl- 
edge, and  hence,  as  tested  by  the  standard    of  legitimacy 


LECTURE    OF    I'RES.    LAWS.  377 

which  requires  matter  and  mind  to  be  on  the  .same  foot- 
ing', matter  is  on  this  view  acknowledged  only  as  a 
bastard  reality.  By  whatever  shading,  subtlety  or  re- 
finement, matter  and  mind  are  denied  an  equally  legiti- 
mate recognition  as  equally  objects  of  immediate  knowl- 
edge,all  thus  holding  should,  in  the  view  which  presides 
over  the  present  discussion,  be  set  down  here  as  spurious 
dualistic  realists.  To  this  group  many  Platonists  :md  a 
host  of  philosophers  of  different  ages  belong. 

(2).  Legitimate  Dualistic  realism,  [i  was  stated  at 
the  opening  of  the  Foregoing  review  of  speculative  hy- 
potheses, that  the  hypothesis  esteemed  capable  of  vindica- 
tion and  hence  legitimate  and  true,  would  be  reserved 
•to  the  last.  The  point  is  now  reached  where  that  ordeal 
must  be  passed. 

The  one  point  to  be  maintained  is  that  matter 
and  mind,  phenomenally  and  substantially,  are  both 
equally  objects  of  immediate  knowledge;  that  neither 
rests  on  inference,  and  that  each  as  known  has  as  good  a 
title  to  recognized  reality  as  the  other.  They  are  twin 
sisters  in  the  family  of  knowledge,  without  either  having 
the  advantage  oyer  the  other  of  a  superior  claim  to 
legitimacy  or  to  the  right  of  primogeniture. 

Properly  understood,  it  would  seem  that  nothing 
could  be  more  simple  than  the  case  before  us.  All  the 
conditions  of  the  problem  are  in  the  possession  of  every 
human  being,  so  thai  there  is  no  occasion  to  compass  sea 
and  land  to  gather  the  materials  or  to  qualify  one  for  an 
appreciation  of  its  solution.  It  has  too  generally  escaped 
attention,  that  metaphysics  is  not  genetic  but  cxegetie. 
Its  business  i^  not  the  creation  of  something  new,  hut  the 
faithful  interpretation  of  what  already  exists.  And  as. 
the  question  before  u^  is  not  primarily  one  of  logic  but 


378  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

of  exposition,  or  interpretation,  our  appeal    must   be  di- 
rected  to  each  one's  own  common  sense. 

A  simple  concrete  case,  comprehensive  of  all  the 
issues  in  question,  will  first  be  submitted  in  its  spontane- 
ous and  simple  form,  wherein  will  appear  only  the  com- 
mon ground  on  which  all  stand;  and  then  the  abstract 
formulation  of  its  supposed  contents,  where  divergencies 
arise,  will  receive  attention. 

I  am  seated  on  a  chair,  with  my  arm  resting  on  a 
table, pencil  in  hand,  writing  on  a  pad;  my  fe&t  are  cross- 
ed and  resting  on  the  floor.  In  this  situation,  without 
the  slightest  volition,  my  body,  at  several  widely  separa- 
ted points,  is  in  contact  with  surrounding  objects  which  I 
immediately  ascertain  to  be  no  part  of  my  body,  by 
rising  and  stepping  away  from  them.  Then,  I  resume* 
my  position  as  described  and  find  myself  experiencing 
again,  the  same  firm  support  of  and  resistence  to  differ- 
ent parts  of  my  person.  There  is  here,  in  the  main,  no 
exertion  of  will;  and  yet  the  contacts  with  the  chair  and 
floor  and  table  are  sensibly  felt.  All  this  occurs  when 
the  bod}  is  in  a  relaxed,  wearied  and  passive  condition, 
and  when  there  is  no  resistance  of  any  voluntary  effort, 
no  arrest  of  any  muscular  exertion.  The  force  exerted 
is  wholly  physical  and  vel  I  have  an  experience,  a  con- 
sciousness, of  contacts  and  pressure  and  resistance,  of  an 
arrest  of  a  tendency  of  the  body  to  descend,  toward  or 
below  the  floor,  independently  of  any  voluntary  or  con- 
scious exertion  by  me  of  any  energy.  All  this  is  a  most 
palpabic  and  matter  of  course  knowledge  of  a  simple 
state  of  fact,  which  is  so  natural  and  unconstrained  that 
it  would  quite  escape  notice,  were  not  attention  deliber- 
ately fixed  upon  it.  This  knowledge  is  immediate  and 
not  the  result  of  any  process  of  inference  or  reasoning — I 
alight   on   it    by    simple    introspection.      It  is  a    matter  of 


LECTURE   OF   PRES.    LAWS.  379 

observation,  and  observation  is  a  listening  to  nature, 
whereas  experiment  is  a  catechising  of  nature. 

Undoubtedly,  here  is  knowledge,  a  common  sense 
knowledge,  such  as  even  human  being  lias  daily  of 
himself  and  of  something  not  himself.  There  is  no 
conjecture  nor  speculation  about  it.  It  is  plain  matter 
of  fact,  which  no  one  questions,  nor  can  question,  any 
■  more  than   he  can   question   his  own   existence. 

Now,  what  is  contained  in  this  concrete  state  of 
tact?  This  is  a  proper  inquiry  and  our  exegesis  or  ex- 
planation of  this  state  of  fact,  mu^t  furnish  ibu  ajjsw.er 
which  we  seek.  The  knowledge  we  have  of  these  con- 
tacts, pressure  and  resistance  as  described,  is  sense-percep- 
tion. This  knowledge  by  perception,  as  we  have  seen,  is 
not  a  matter  of  inference  or  reasoning,  but  an  immediate 
or  conscious  knowledge  of  the  states  or  affections  of  my 
physical  organism,  due  to  its  contact  with  surrounding 
bodies  with  whose  existence,  so  far  forth  as  in 
immediate  contact  therewith,  f  am  thereby  made  ac- 
quainted. If  this  contact  be  changed,  the  feeling  or 
sensation  alters  correspondingly.  In  the  case  given,  the 
feeling  or  perception  exists  only  to  the  extent  of  actual 
contacts.  If  I  rise  and  stand  on  my  feet,  free  from  con- 
tact with  surrounding  objects,  except  the  floor,  the  feel- 
ing or  perception  of  pressure  is  limited  to  the  feet  which 
alone  are  affected  by  the  actual  pressure  from  supporting 
(he  weight  of  the  bod}-.  If  one  foot  be  raised,  th<?  sen- 
sation'is  then  confined  to  the  foot  that  remains  in  actual 
contact  with  the  supporting  body.  If  I  again  resume 
my  position,  in  my  seat  by  my  writing  desk,  as  at  first 
described,  the  contacts  are  again  felt  as  already  described 
at  several  points,  and  over  varying  extents  of  surface, 
and  separated  from  each  other.  This  experience  of  a 
separation    or    relative    outness  of  these    affections    and 


980 


UNIVKKSITV    OK   MISSOURI. 


affected  parts  should  be  particularly  noted,  as  an  instance 
of  the  direct  cognition  of  an  extended  body,  an  experience 
of  concrete  extension.  Moreover,  the  affections  of  these 
different  parts  are  known  at  the  same  time  and  not  suc- 
cessively. Reflect  on  this  and  see  it  the  knowledge  of  the 
changed  condition  of  the  different  parts  affected  is  not 
taken  in  at  once,  and  that  no  account  whatever  is  taken 
of  their  nearness  to  or  remoteness  from  the  head.  If, 
now,  the  will  is  brought  into  action  on  some  part  of  the 
body,  we  have  a  like  result  as  to  the  location  and  imme- 
diacy#of  the  consequent  affection  of  the  part.  Suppose 
attention  he  turned  on  the  writing  and  the  fingers  are 
made  to  squeeze  the  pencil  more  tightly  and  then  to 
relax, — the  resistance  to  the  muscular  exertion  is  known 
by  us,  or  perceived  only  where  and  when  it  occurs  in  fact, 
viz.,  at  the  ends  of  the  fingers  holding  the  pencil  and  at 
the  very  time  of  the  volition.  Mow,  join  with  me  in 
the  experiment  and  press  your  big  toe  against  the  door. 
Are  you  not  conscious  of  the  resistance  at  the  time  and 
place  of  its  Occurrence?  Repetition  does  not  vary  the 
result,  and  it  cannot  he  denied  that  our  knowledge  of 
the  resistance  seems  to  lie  located  in  the  toe  just  where 
and  when  it  occurs.  Jf  this  experiment  he  again  varied 
and  the  contact  with  different  parts  of  the  body,  as 
actual  experiment  has  shown,  be  effected  by  a  movement 
from  without  inward,  instead  of  from  within  outward, 
the  result  is  found  to  he  identically  the  same,  as  the  im- 
pressions made  simultaneously  on  different  parts  of  the 
bodily  organism,  it  proper  care  he  taken  as  to  their 
relative  sensibility,  are  felt  instantaneously  and  simultane- 
ously, and  not  successively  at  intervals  corresponding  to 
the  relative  distances  of  the  parts  affected  from  the  head 
or  any  other  imagined  seat  of  sensation  within  the 
organism. 


LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  381 

Without  unduly  extending-  this  line  of  inquiry,  re- 
mark that  the  sensations  of  touch  or  contact  of  pressure 
and  muscular  insistence  are  precisely  the  same  in  kind  as 
all  other  sensations ;  and  whilst  it  may  not  be  satisfactory 
to  sny  with  Democritus  that  all  sensations  are  onl}-  mod- 
ifications of  touch,  it  is  doubtless  true  that  no  sensation 
is  felt  apart  from  an  affection  of  our  bodily  organism. 

In  our  exposition  we  have  now  reached  the  point 
where  we  arc  prepared  to  say  that  we  see  two  things 
very  plainly — one  is,  that  we  know  our  hodily  selves; 
and  the  other,  that  we  know  something  other  than  our 
bodily  selves,  it  may  be  in  contact  therewith  but  separate 
or  separable  from  the  same.  This  knowledge  does  not  re- 
sulf  from  reasoning  or  argument;  it  is  not  matter  of  in- 
ference or  proof.  You  can  neither  prove  it  nor  dis- 
prove it.  It  is  self-evident — immediate,  intuitive,  indis- 
putable. 

Thai  which  is  other  than  ourselves  we  may  term 
the  external  non  ego.  And  we  have  seen  that  it  is  only 
so  much  of  this  external  non  ego  as  is  in  direct  or  imme- 
diate sensible  contact  with  our  bodily  ego,  that  we  im- 
mediately and  most  certainly  know.  The  portion  of  the 
house  or  of  any  surroundings,  in  contact  with  my  phvs- 
ical  organism,  we  have  already  plainly  seen  that  I  as  con- 
scious! \  know  as  J  do  my  own  hand  or  foot.  What  is 
thus  directly  cognized  may  be  termed  the  proximate  ex- 
ternal non  ego.  It  is  because  we  are  thus  conscious  of 
s;o  much  of  the  external  non-ego  as  is  immediately  in 
contact  with  our  bodily  selves,  that,  by  analogy,  corres- 
ponding reality  and  certainty  of  ixistence  are  ascribed  to 
all  other  external  things  near  and  remote.  I  confidently 
submit  that  it  is  not  possible  for  us  to  divest  ourselves 
of  the  conviction  and  spontaneous  recognition  of  the 
proximate   external    non  ego  as   an   existing  reality,  and 


382  NIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

also  as  proof  against  all  illusion,  deception  and  fraud.    In 
accordance  with   Reid  and  others,  we  may  view    the   re- 
mote external  non-egovs,  suggested  by  the  proximate,  hut 
not  the  proximate  itself,  as  thus  suggested   or    inferred. 
We  believe  the   proximate  external    non-ego    to  exist  a- 
an    objective,    extended    reality    becuuse    we   intuitively 
know   it   to  exist;  but    we   believe   the   remote   to   exist 
only    by    analogy    ot  appearance     and    inference.     The 
proximate  basis  of  faith  is  knowledge.    The  senses  never 
deceive  us  within  their  appropriate  sphere  of  action  ;  and 
it  must  he  home  in  mind  continually,' thru  one  sense  can- 
not do  the  work  of  another.     Each  sense  is  discriminat- 
ed from  every  other,  hut   no  sense  has   a  vicarious  func- 
tion.     By  the  eve  we   see   only  an   image,  or  colored  ex- 
tension, and  by  Required  habit  discriminate  distances: 
far  as  the  eve  is  concerned,  the  house  around   me    has  no 
more   reality    than  smoke.      But   if  I    undertake   to   pass 
though  what  appears  to  be  a  wall,  the  muscular  sense   of 
resistance  reveals  solidity   in  relation    to  voluntary  move- 
ment,   as    the    sensation   of    pressure    reveals    the    same 
solidity    in    an  involuntary    relation;  the   tactile   - 
in   Cheselden's  case,   can  also  give   the  superficies    and 
forms  of  solids,  and  in  general,  when  the  >en    :  in- 

terpreted aright  and  each  is  allotted  its  proper  testi- 
mony, the  testimony  as  given  is  true;  if  ;:u\ 
arises  it  is  from  not  attending  to  the  checks  of  sense  and 
of  reason  on  sense,  so  as  to  put  a  truthful  interpretation 
on  the  testimony  given.  The  sense-,  are  not  responsible 
for  their  misinterpretation.  No  man  is  conscious  of  tin- 
past,  nor  of  the  future,  nor  of  the  distant.  No  man  is 
conscious  of  the  sun  in  the  heavens,  but  ever)  one  with 
his  eyes  open  and  turned  toward  that  object  must  per- 
ceive the  evidence  of  its  existence  in  the  image  of  it 
formed  in  his  eye. 


LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  388 

For  we  are  percipient  of  nothing  but  what  is  in  proximate 
contact,  in  immediate  relation,  with  our  organs  of  sense.  Distant 
realities  we  reach  not  by  perception,  but  by  a  subsequenl  process 
of  inference  founded  therein.  *  *  *  It  is  sufficient  to  establish 
the  simple  fact,  that  we  are  competent,  as  consciousness  assures 
us,  immediately  to  apprehend  through  sense  the  [proximate  ex- 
ternal] non-ego  in  certain  limited  relations;  and  it  is  of  no  conse- 
quence whatever,  either  to  our  certainty  of  the  reality  of  a  mate- 
ria! world,  or  to  our  ultimate  knowlede  of  its  properties,  whether 
by  this  primary  apprehension  we  lay  hold,  in  the  lirst  instance,  on 
a  large  or  a  less  portion  of  its  contents. — (II. 's  Reid  p.  Si  i  a.  and 
Hamilton's  Lectures  on  Met.  p.  315.) 

That  portion  ot  the  material  world  which  is  brought 
into  immediate  contact  with  our  sensitive  organism  is  the 
erra  firma,  the  sure  and  indestructible  foundation,  on 
which  wc  build.  To  the  extent  that  the  world  thus  en- 
compasses ns  and  presses  upon  us,  we  as  certainly  and  as 
directly  know  it  as  we  know  ourselves;  in  fact,  we  only 
the  more  certainly  know  ourselves  by  f|heir  discrimina- 
tion from  this  immediately  intuited  external  non  ego,  as 
something  not  ourselves  and  no  part  of  ourselves;  and 
from  the  certain  existence  and  reality  of  what  is  thus 
most  certainly  known,  by  analogy  the  equal  reality  of 
what  lies  outside  of  the  present  sphere  of  intuition  is 
allowed  by  an  immediate  and  justifiable  inference.  The 
external  world  is.  not,  therefore,  a  fiction,  a  dream,  a 
mental  fabrication,  a  phantom,  nor  a  mere  objeel  of 
possible  knowledge,  or  at  best  only  an  unknown  some- 
thing believed  in  through  some  natural  and  constraining 
suggestions  and  impulse  from  the  floating  play  ot  sym- 
bolic  impressions  and  ideas.  It  is  found  to  be  a  solid 
prosaic  reality,  at  whatever  point  we  come  in  contact 
therewith,  and  hence.  Judging  so  much  of  it  as  is  un- 
known from  what  is  thus  consciously  and  solidly  known, 
the  human  mind  has,  in  ail  ages,  instinctively,  without 
logic  and  without  reasoning,  accepted  the  reality  of  the 
entire  external  world  as  resting  upon  a  footnig  as  secure 
as  that  of  our  individual  existence.    In  this  respect,  there- 


384  UNIVERSITY    OK   MISSOURI. 

fore,  the  faith  of  the  vulgar  is  the  true  faith  of  the  phi]  , 
opher,  with  only  this  difference,  that  the  philosopher  gives 
as  a  reason  for  the  faith  that  is  common  the  knowledge 
that  is  common :  and  every  adventurous  vessel  that  has 
loosed  the  flukes  of  its  anchor  from  the  bed-rock  of  this 
harbor  of  common  «  :nse  and  common  consciousness,  has 
been  dismantled  and  drifted  to  sea  as  a  rudderless  and 
unmanageable  bulk,  by  the  storms  and  cross-currents  of 
the  unfathomable  ocean  of  lawless  speculation.  Our 
anchorage  is  in  the  stable,  clear,  indisputable  and  insup- 
erable intuition  of  the  non  ego.  It  is  believed  that  the 
foregoing  exposition  of  this  most  critical  fact  of  expe- 
rience as  to  the  external  world,  will  commend  itself,  as 
natural  and  truthful,  to  every  intelligent  and  reflecting 
mind.  Each  one  is  in  possession  of  all  that  is  material 
to  an  independent  opinion,  as  to  whether  the  interpre- 
tation given  faithfully  minor's  the  workings  of  his  own 
mind.  Be  sure  of  the  precise  meaning  of  the  necessa- 
rily somewhat  technical  language  used,  and  then  check 
off  the  errors  if*  any  be  detected,  and  the  author  of  this 
attempt  to  act  as  nature's  interpreter  will  be  placed 
under  sincere  and  lasting  obligations  by  being  made 
acquainted  with  any  criticisms  thus  elicited.  Your  atten- 
tion is  specially  challenged  in  this  exposition  of  dualistic 
realism,  to  the  primary  point  of  departure  here  taken 
as  located  in  the  intuition,  and  discrimination  of  the 
external  non  ego,  as  different  from,  and  yet,  as  being  as 
certainly  known,  as  we  know  our  complex  selves.  It  is 
a  most  remarkable  lact  and  worthy  of  special  note,  as 
we  shall  see,  that  as  we  intuit,  phenomenally  and  notime- 
nally,  only  a  segment  of  the.  whole  sphere  of  the  exter- 
nal no>i  ego,  so  in  like  manner  do  we  intuit  only  a  small 
segment  of  the  sphere  of  the  internal  complex  personal 
ego.     The  subconscious  or  latent  modifications  of  mind, 


LECTURE    OF    PR£S,    LAWS.  385 

and  the  subconscious  modifications  of  the  physical  organ- 
ism in  all  its  vital  functions,  constitute  respectively  a 
terra  incognita  relatively  comparable  to  the  terra  incog- 
nita of  the  external  world;  but  in  each,  the  unknown 
must  not  be  allowed  to  usurp  the  place  of  the  known. 
My  ignorance  only  heightens  the  value  of  my  knowl- 
edge, as  the  density  of  the  surroundjng  darkness  only 
gives  increased  importance  to  the  lighted  lamp  which  I 
carry  in  my  hand,  or  wear  upon  my  brow  as  a  miner 
tlelving  for  hidden  treasures  in  the  deep  depths  of  the 
bowels  of  the  earth.  Here,  again,  we  are  brought  to 
the  border  land  and  behold  that  the  real  transcends  the 
known  and  the  knowable,  and  that  the  outlying  domains 
beyond  the  utmost  boundary  of  the  immediate  knowl- 
edge of  consciousness  and  intuition,  internal  and  external, 
is  the  sacred  and  inalienable  inheritance  of  faith.  Faith 
presupposes  and  transcends  knowledge  with  respect  both 
of  the   ego  and  to  the  non  ego. 

It  would  be  a  waste  of  time  to  dwell  on  the  fact 
that  the  common  sense  of  men,  without  any  refinements 
of  speculation,  has  in  all  ages  and  among  all  peoples 
grasped  the  substantial  truth  that  the  external  world  is 
as  real  as  our  bodily  selves.  Those  who  have  battled 
most  stoutly  against  the  soundness  of  this  spontaneous 
judgment,  concede  its  universal  and  obstinate  reality. 
Lewes  remarks  that  "all  the  stories  about  Pyrrho  which 
pretend  to  illustrate  the  effects  of  his  scepticism  in  real 
life  are  too  trivial  tor  refutation."  In  a  passage  already 
quoted,  Hume  concedes  that  "The  great  subverter  of 
Pyrrhonism,  or  the  excessive  principles  of  scepticism,  is 
action  and  employment,  and  the  occupations  of  common 
life.  These  principles,"  he  continues,  "may  flourish 
and  triumph  in  the  schools,  where  it  is  indeed  difficult,  it 
not   impossible,  to  refute  them.     But  as   soon    as    they 


386  UNIVERSITY    OK    MISSOURI. 

leave  the  shade,  and  are  put  in  the  presence  of  the  real 
objects  which  actuate  our  passions  and  sentiments,  and 
in  opposition  to  the  more  powerful  principles  of  our- 
nature,  they  vanish  like  smoke,  and  leave  the  most  de- 
termined sceptic  in  the  same  condition  as  other  mortals." 
Shelling  labors  to  explain  the  fact  "that  mankind  at 
large  believe  in  the  reality  ol  an  external  world,"  and 
"that  the  man  of  c'oramon  sense  believes,  and  will  not 
but  believe  that  the  object  he  is  conscious  of  perceiving 
is  the  real  one."  Berkely  says:  "The  former — the  vul- 
gar— are  of  opinion  that  those  things  they  immediately 
perceive  are  the  real  things."  It  is  pertinent  to  quote,  in 
this  immediate  connection,  the  following  passage  from 
Sir  William  Hamilton: 

The  past  history  of  philosophy  has,  in  a  greal  measure,  been 
only  a  history  of  variation  and  error  ("variasse  erroris  est);  vet  the 
cause  of  this  variation  being  known,  we  obtain  a  valid  ground  of 
hope  for  the  destiny  of  philosophy  in  future.  Beeause,  since  phi- 
losophy has  hitherto  been  inconsistent  with  itself,  only  in  being 
inconsistent  with  the  dictates  of  our  natural  beliefs — 
i?or  Truth  is  Catholic,  and  Nature  one; 
it  follows,  that  peilosophy  has  simply  to  return  to  natural  con- 
sciousness, to  return  to  unity  and  truth. 

The  other  aspect  ot  the  case  to  which  attention  was 
asked  is  that  in  which  we  know  our  corporeal  selves  as 
distinct  from  what  surrounds  us  just  as  we  have  seen  that 
we  know  the  proximate  external  ego  as  not  self.  When 
we  restrict  our  attention  to  this  inner  sphere,  the  question 
recurs  with  renewed  and  peculiar  interest  and  force,, 
whether  the  distinction  between  self  and  not-self — be- 
tween subject  and  object,  between  mind  and  matter,  can 
be  detected  and  expounded  even  here.  As  the  object  of 
our  research  and  as  man  knows  himself,  he  does  not  ex- 
ist as  pure  spirit  nor  as  pure  body,  but  as  a  union  of  body 
and  spirit  in  one  individual  person.  My  definition  of 
sensation  that  it  is  an  individual's  consciousness  of  any 
modification  of  bis   nervous  organism,  is   believed  to-be 


LECTURE   OF    PRES.    LAWS.  387 

valid  in  the  case  of  each  of  the  senses,  and  i:    is  the  basis 
of  a  new  analysis  of  the  senses  considerably    increasi 
the    list    beyond    five.     I   do  not  say  the  modification  of 
physical  organism,  because  the  total  nerve  matter  in  mair 
only   averages  in   weight   about  one-fortieth   part  of  the 
weight   of  the  body,  and  yet   its  distribution  is   so  very 
minute  ami  ramified  that,  roughly,  the  expression    modi- 
fication  of  the  physical  organism   might  be  supposed   a 
proper  substitute  for  the  modification  of  the   nervous  01 
ganism;  but,  as  a.  matter  of  fact,  this  would   be  wide   of 
the  mark,  for,  not  only  are  certain  portions  of  the   bod) 
as  the  hair,  nails,  cai'tilages   and  tendous   wholly  outside 
of  all  nervous  distribution   and   hence  destitute  of  con- 
tractility and  sensibility,  hut    the  sympathetic  portion    of 
the    nervous   system   which    functions    the    internal 
vital  organs,  as  the  lungs,  heart, stomach,  intestines,  liver, 
kidneys,  blood  vessels,  &c,  is  quite  sub-conscious, or  out- 
side of  the  sphere  of  consciousness  —so  that,  it  is  on! 
portion  of  even  the  nervous  organism,  strictly  speaking, 
whose   modifications  are   properly  embraced   within  the 
above   definition  of  sensation.      It  is  a  matter  of    familiar 
demonstration,    that    i>\     destroying    the    sensorv    nerve 
supply   of  any  limb,  as  the  arm  or  leg,  and  then    lacerat- 
ing  it  by  cutting  or  burning,  though  seen  to  affect  ilie.se 
members   of  one's   body,   it.    makes   no    more  impression 
than  cutting  or  burning  one's  coat  tail.     They   are,  then 
as    foreign  to  consciousness    as    billets    of    wood    hung 
upon    us    with    strings.      The    following   passages   from 
Descartes   who    was    an  anatomist,   are  exceeding!)     in- 
teresting in  this  connection: 

"I  remark  here  first  of  all,"  he   says,  "that  there  i-  a  great  dit" 
ference  between  the  spirit  and  the  bode  in  this,  that  the  body, from* 
its  nature,  is  always  divisible  and  that  the  spirit  \--  entirely  indn  is 
ible;  for,  in  fact,  when  I  consider  myself  in    so  far  as   ]  am  onl)    a 
thing  which  thinks,  I  do  not  distinguish  in  myself  any  parts,  but    I. 


888  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

know  and  conceive  very  clearly  that  I  am  a  thing  absolutely  one 
and  entire;  and  chough  the  entire  spirit  seems  to  be  united  to  the 
entire  body,  yet  when  a  foot  or  any  other  part  is  separated  from 
it,  I  know  perfectly  well  that  nothing  on  this  account  has  been 
tak  en  away  from  my  spirit;  and  the  faculties  of  willing,  of  feeling, 
of  conceiving,  &c,  cannot  be  properly  termed  its  parts,  for  it  is  the 
same  spirit  which,  in  its  totality  ("tout  entier"),  is  employed  in 
willing,  and  which  in  its  totality  is  employed  in  feeling,  in  con- 
ceiving, ifcc,  but  it  is  altogether  contrary  in  things  corporeal  and 
extended." 

Again  he  says: 

"Nature  has  also  taught  me  by  the  sensations  of  pain,  hunger, 
thirst,  &c,  that  I  am  not  merely  lodged  in  my  body,  as  a  pilot  in 
his  boat,  but  that  I  am  united  with  it  very  intimately  and  in  such 
-manner  confounded  and  mixed  up  with  it  that  I  compose  with  it 
a  single  individual.  For  if  this  were  not  so,  when  my  body  is 
wounded  I  would  not  feel  on  that  account  any  pain,  I  who  am 
only  a  thing  which  thinks;  but  I  would  perceive  this  injury  by  the 
understanding  only,  as  a  pdot  by  his  sight,  if  something  is  broken 
in  his  vessel;  and  when  my  body  has  need  of  drinking  or  of  eat- 
ing, I  would  simply  know  this,even  without  being  notified  of  it  by 
vague  sensations  of 'hunger  and  thirst;  for  in  truth  all  these  sensa- 
tions of  hunger,  thirst,  pain,  &c,  are  no  other  thing  than  certain 
confused  modes  of  thinking  which  proceed  from  and  depend  on 
the  mind  and  as  it  were  the  mixture  of  the  spirit  with  the  body." 
— (Descartes'  Oeuvres,  edit.  Simon,  pp.  124  and  120.) 

These  passages  point  with  pertinence  to  the  sim- 
plicity and  persistent  oneness  and  integrity  of  the  con- 
scious spirit  in  man,  and  within  certain  limitations,  the 
presentation  is  unassailable.  So  long  as  the  cord  above 
the  third  cervical  vertebra,  and  the  vital  point  of  the 
medulla,  which  by  reflex  action  function  respiration  on 
which  the  circulation  of  the  blood  and  consequent 
nutrition  depend,  be  left  intact,  conscious  sensation  and 
voluntary  movements  are  supposed  to  be  detected  in  the 
mutilated  organism.  When,  thus,  we  descend  to  the 
region  of  this  dim  twilight  of  corporeal  life,  the  mental 
and  physical  forces  still  seem  to  be  face  to  face  in  the 
co-action  of  spirit  and  body. 

The  citadel  of  materialism  which  sees  only  two 
faces  here,  as  under  all  other  conditions,  of  a  single  force 
is  in  the  supposed  function  of  the  nerve  cell  in  its  relation 


LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  389 

to  the  nerve  fibre.  The  two  ultimate  anatomical  ele- 
ments of  the  nerve  matter  or  tissue  are  the  cell  and  the 
fibre.  It  is  conveniently  assumed  that  the  fibres  origi- 
nate from  the  cells  and  that  the  cells  evolve  all  the  nerve 
force  whose  transmutations  present  the  phenomena  of 
thought,  feeling  and  will.  The  favorite  illustration 
drawn  from  the  electric  battery  and  circuit  is  a  most  un- 
fortunate one,  for  in  that  case  it  is  known  that  the  wire 
conductors  are  metallic  continuations  of  the  poles  of  the 
battery,  that  a  force  is  in  fact  conducted  and  that  the 
force  conducted  is  generated  in  the  cells;  whereas,  in 
the  nervous  system,  it  is  not  known  that  the  fibre  has 
any  such  connection  with  the  so-called  cell,  nor  that  the 
cell  evolves  any  force  whatever,  nor  that  the  fibre  con- 
ducts anything  at  all,  much  less  in  the  manner  of  a  tele- 
graph wire.  As  to  the  essential  point  of  the  connection 
of  the  fibre  with  the  cell,  the  present  state  of  science  is 
seen  in  the  following  language: 

In  the  present  state  of  our  knowledge,  however  well  we  may 
be  acquainted  with  the  peripheric  termination  of  ;i  great  number 
of  nerve  fihres,  it  cannot  be  said  that  the  mode  of  the  central 
origin  of  any  single  fibril  has  hitherto  been  proved. 

This  is  the  language  of  Max  Schultze,  than  whom 
there  is  no  higher  authority,  and  it  is  quoted  with  ap- 
proval in  a  recent  edition  of  Gray's  Anatomy.  The 
various  diagrammatic  schemes,  such  as  are  presented  in 
some  physiologies  and  in  Herbert  Spencer's  Psychology, 
for  exhibiting  the  cell  origin  of  nerve  fibre  and  nerve 
force,  are  figments  of  the  imagination  and  not  portrait- 
ures of  nature.  It  is  astonishing  with  what  assurance 
the  critical  and  sacred  facts  of  nature — in  this  most  im- 
portant domain  of  inquiry — have  been  supplanted  by 
the  veriest  romancing,  which  utterly  deceives  and  mis- 
leads the  unwary.  When  such  men  as  Huxley  and  Mauds- 
ley  and   others  teach  these   nerve  cell    fictions  for  facts, 


390  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

and  none  know  it   better   than  themselves,  they   remind 
«is    ot    the    heathen    priests  described   by     Juvenal,  who, 
whilst  ministering  at  the  altars  of  their  false  gods,  farci- 
cally   laughed   in  each   others'  faces,  when  they    looked 
under  their  sleeves.     This  mockery  of  nature,  by  those 
who  have  been   honored  as   her   priests  and  interpreters, 
should   be   tolerated    no  longer.     It  is   not   known  that 
any  nerve  force,  little  or  much,  wise  or  stupid,  originates 
?n  the  cell  at  all;  it  is  at  best  a  mere  conjecture.    Besides, 
it  is  perfectly  certain  that    the  fibre — the  axis  cylinder — 
stnd    not   the   cell,   is    the    fundamental    element    of   the 
nervous  organism,  and   hence   the  cell  must  be  subordi- 
nate to  it,  probably  by  way  of  its  nutrition.     Moreover, 
the   agency    of    a   separate   and   superior  force    must  be 
brought  into  controlling  relation  to  the  subordinate  force 
of  electricity,  before    the   phenomena  of  intelligence,  of 
mind  will  associate  and   blend    with   what  would  other- 
wise  be    the   dull    round    of  unrelieved    physical    action. 
It   is    positively    known,   in   all    eases   of  the    display  of 
intelligence   in   connection    with   electrical   agency,  that 
the  result  is  due  to  a  dual  source  of  influence.     It  is  con- 
ceded and  agreed   that  the  portion  ot  the   physical  uni- 
verse in  proximate  relation  to  mind  is  the  nervous  organ- 
ism.     And      in   our   interpretation    of    the    facts    of    our 
own     constitution,    we      find     two     forces     or     a    dual 
agency  operative  in  the  production  of  the  phenomena  of 
which  we   are  cognisant.     It  is  useless   to  look  for  mind 
and  matter  elsewhere  in  the  whole  compass  of  existence, 
it  we  do  not  find  them  here.    Hence  the  distinctness  and 
emphasis  given  to  the  foregoing  line  of  discussion. 

This  point  cannot  be  pursued  farther  at  this  time, 
but  the  explosion  of  the  cell  fiction  of  the  physiologists, 
a  pure  but  plausible  invention  to  explain  a  supposed 
state    o!   facts   in    nerve   currents   and    in    the   relation  of 


LKOTURE    OP   l'KES.    LAWS.  391 

fibres  to  ceils,  which  probably  docs  not  exist,  literally 
demolishes  the  citadel  of  unitarian  materialism.  This  is 
one  of  Bacon's  instances  of  an  idolatry  ot  images,  false 
to  nature,  set  up  in  the  temple  of  the  human  mind;  and 
it  may  be  predicted  that  all  clamor  over  the  loss  will  be 
like  that  of  Micah,  "Ye  have  taken  away  my  gods 
which  I  made  *  *  *  and  what  have  I  more?"  No 
•true  worshipper  at  nature's  shrine  pays  his  devotions  to 
any  god  of  his  own  making,  or  if  he  ;loes,  it  is  liable  to 
be  taken  from  him.  This  cell-god  is  a  fabrication  of 
hasty  speculation  -and  the  whole  doctrine  of  nerve  cur- 
rents is  open  to  question.  A  careful  inquiry  into  the 
physiological  aspect  of  this  subject  will  be  found  in  my 
Thesis  on  the  Dual  Constitution  of  Man,  to  which 
reference  is  made  above. 

The  following  passage  from  the  First  Alcibiades 
of  Plato,  presents  the  crude  Socratic  method  of  conduct- 
ing the  search  after  the  dual  constitution  of  man.  As  to 
this  dialogue,  "Socher  and  Stallbaum  are  of  opinion  that 
not  a  single  substantial  reason  can  be  assigned  for  doubt- 
ing its  genuineness."  The  interlocutors  are  Socrates 
and  Alcibiades. 

Soc.  Come,  now.  I  beseech  you,  tell  me  with  whom  you  are 
conversing?— Is  it  not  with  me?  Al.  Yes.  Soc.  As  1  am  with 
you?  Al.  Yes-.  That  is  to  say,  I,  Socrates,  am  talking?  Al. 
Yes.  Soc.  And  I  in  talking  use  words?  Al.  Certainly.  Soc. 
And  talking  and  using  words  are,  as  vou  would  say,  the 
Al.  Very  true.  Soc.  And  the  user  is  not  the  same  as  the  thing 
which  he  uses?  Al.  What  do  you  mean?  Soc.  I  will  explain: 
the  shoemaker,  for  example,  uses  a  square  tool,  and  a  circular  tool, 
and  other  tools  for  cutting?  Al.  Yes.  Soc.  But  the  tool  is  not 
the  same  as  the  cutter  and  user  of  the  tool?  Al.  Of  course  not. 
Soc.  And  in  the  same  way  the  instrument  of  the  harper  is  to  be 
distinguished  from  the  harper  himself?  Al.  It  is.  Soc.  Now  the 
question  which  I  asked  was  whether  you  conceive  the  user  to  be 
always  different  from  that  which  he  uses?  Al.  I  do.  Soc.  Then 
what  shall  we  say  of  the  shoemaker?  Does  he  cut  with  his  tools 
only  or  with  his  hands?  Al.  With  his  hands  as  well.  Soc.  He 
uses  his;  hands  too?      Al.    Yes.     Soc.   And  does  he   use  his  eves  in 


892  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

cutting  leather?  Al.  He  does.  Soc.  And  we  admit  that  the  user 
is  not  the  same  with  the  things  which  he  uses?  Al.  Yes.  Soc. 
Then  the  shoemaker  and  the  harper  are  to  be  distinguished  from 
the  hands  and  feet  which  they  use?  Al.  That  is  clear,  Soc.  And 
does  not  a  man  use  the  whole  body?  Al.  Certainly.  Soc.  And 
that  which  uses  is  different  from  that  which  is  used?  Al.  True. 
Soc.  Then  a  man  is  not  the  same  as  his  own  body?  Al.  That  is 
the  inference.  Soc.  What  is  he,  then?  Al.  I  cannot  say.  Soc. 
Nay,  you  can  say  that  he  is  the  user  of  the  body.  Al.  Yes. 
Soc.  And  the  user  of  the  body  is  the  soul?  Al.  Yes,  the  soul. 
Soc.  And  the  soul  rules?  Al.  Yes.  Soc.  Let  me  make  an  asser 
tion  which  will,  I  think,  be  universally  admitted.  Al.  What  it. 
that?  Soc.  That  man  is  one  of  three  things.  Al.  What  are 
they?  Soc.  Soul,  body,  or  the  union  of  the  two.  Al.  Certainly. 
.Soc.  But  did  we  not  say  that  the  actual  ruling  principle  of  the  body 
is  man?  Al.  Yes,  we  did.  Soc.  And  does  the  body  rule  over 
itself?  Al.  Certainly  not.  Soc.  It  is  subject,  as  we  were  saying? 
Al.  Yes.  Soc.  Then  that  is  not  what  we  are  seeking?  Al.  It 
would  seem  not.  Soc.  Hut  may  we  say  that  the  union  of  the  two 
rules  over  the  body,  and  consequently  that  this  is  man?  Al.  Very 
likely.  Soc.  The  "most  unlikely  of  all  things;  for  if  one  of  the 
two  is  subject,  the  two  united  cannot  possibly  ride.  Al.  True. 
Soc.  But  since  neither  the  body,  nor  the  union  of  the  two,  is  man, 
either  man  has  no  teal  existence,  or  the  soul  is  man?  Al.  Just  so. 
Soc.  Would  you  have  a  more  precise  proof  that  ihe  soul  is  man? 
Al.  No;  1  think  that  the  proof  is  sufficient.  Soc.  If  the  proof, 
although  not  quite  precise,  is  fair,  that  is  enough  for  us;  more  pre- 
cise proof  will  be  supplied  when  we  have  discovered  that  which 
we  were  led  to  omit,  from  a  fear  that  the  inquiry  would  be  too 
much  protracted. 

We  have  here  the  germ  out  of  which  the  Cartesian 
speculation  was  developed,  for  in  it  we  see  not  only  the 
pronounced  discrimination  between  the  body  and  the 
soul,  but  the  same   disparagement  of  the   material   part. 

The  poet  has,  in  the  following  lines,  measured  his 
views  by  this  subjective  Cartesian  standard: 

"This  frame  compacted  with  transcendant  skill 
Of  mo\  ing  joints,  obedient  to  my  will; 
Nursed  from  the  fruitful  glebe,  like  yonder  tree, 
Waxes  and  wastes — I  call  it  mine,  not  me. 
New  matter  still  the  mouldering  mass  sustains; 
The  mansion  changed,  the  tenant  still  remains; 
And,  from  the  fleeting  stream,  repaired  by  food, 
Distinct  as  is  the  swimmer  from  the  flood." 

Dr.   Krauth  has  expressed  his  recoil   from  this  unilateral 

view  thus:  "The  attestation  of  consciousness  is  as  real  to 


LECTURE    OK    PRESS.    LAWS,  393 

the  substantial  existence  of  our  bodies  as  an  integral  part 
of  our  person,  as  it  is  to  the  substantial  existence  of  our 
minds.  *  *  As  Philosophy  alone  knows  them,  there 
can  be  no  mind  conceived  without  matter,  no  matter  con- 
ceived without  mind.  Materialism  and  idealism  are 
alike  forms  of  direct  self-contradiction.*" 

As  bringing  forth  the  doctrine  of  substantial  duality 
into  a  strong  light,  the  following  passage,  with  two  or 
three  criticisms  which  it  provokes,  will  serve  most  ad- 
mirably  our  purpose. 

Bui  the  meaning  of  these  terms  will  be  best  illustrated  by 
now  stating  and  explaining  the  great  axiom,  that  all  human 
knowledge,  consequently  that  all  human  philosophy,  is  only  of  the 
relative  or  phenomenal.  In  this  proposition,  the  term  "relative"' 
is  opposed  to  the  term  "absolute:"  and,  therefore,  in  saying  that 
we  know  only  the  relative,  I  virtually  assert  that  we  know  noth- 
ing absolute, — nothing  existing  absolutely  ;  that  is.  if)  and  for  itself,, 
and  without  relation  to  us  and  our  faculties.  1  shall  illustrate  this 
by  its  application.  Our  knowledge  is  either  of  matter  or  of  mind. 
Now,  what  is  matter.'  What  do  we  know  of  matter:  Matter,  or 
body,  is  to  us  the  name  either  of  something  known,  or  of  some- 
thing unknown.  In  so  far  as  matter  is  a  name  for  something- 
known,  it  means  that  which  appears  to  us  under  the  forms  of  ex- 
tension, solidity,  divisibility,  figure,  motion,  roughness,  smooth- 
ness, color,  heat,  cold,  etc. ;  in  short,  it  is  a  common  name  for  a 
certain  series,  or  aggregate,  or  complement  of  appearances  or  phe- 
nomena manifested  in  coexistence. 

But  as  the  phenomena  appear  only  in  conjunction,  w  e  are 
"compelled  b)  the  constitution  of  our  nature"  to  think  them  con- 
joined in  and  by  something;  and  as  they  are  phenomena,  we  can- 
not think  them  the  phenomena  of  nothing,  but  must  regard  them 
as  the  properties  or  qualities  of  something  that  is  extended,  solid, 
figured,  etc.  But  this  something,  absolutely  and  in  itself,  i.  e.,  con- 
sidered apart  from  its  phenomena,  is  to  us  as  zero.  It.  is  only  in 
its  qualities,  only  in  its  effects,  in  its  relative  or  phenomenal  exis- 
tence, that  it  is  cognizable  or  conceivable;  and  it  is  only  by  a  law 
of  thought, which  compels  us  to  think  something,  absolute  and  un- 
known, as  the  basis  or  condition  of  the  relative  and  known,  that 
this  something  obtains  a  kind  of  incomprehensible  reality  to  us. 
Now,  that  which  manifests  qualities, — in  other  words,  that  in 
which  the  appearing  causes  inhere,  that  to  which  they  belong,  its 
called  their  "subject,"  or  "substance,"  or  "substratum."  To  this 
subject  of  the  phenomena  of  extension,  solidity,  etc.,  the  term 
"matter"  or  "material  substance"  is  commonly  given;  and,  there- 
fore, as  contradistinguished  from  these  qualities,  it  is  the  .name  of 
something  unknown  and  inconceivable. 


394  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 

The  same  is  true  in  regard  to  the  term  "mind."  rn  so  far  as 
mind  is  the  common  name  for  the  states  of  knowing,  willing,  feel- 
ing, desiring,  etc.,  of  winch  I  am  conscious,  it  is  only  the  name 
for  a  certain  series  of  connected  phenomena  or  qualities,  and  con- 
sequently, expresses  only  what  is  known.  But  in  so  far  as  it  de- 
notes that  subject  or  substance  in  which  the  phenomena  Of  know- 
ing, willing,  etc.,  inhere. — something  behind  or  under  these  phse- 
nomena, — it  expresses  what,  in  itself,  or  in  it  :        stence, 

is  unknown. 

Thus,  mind  and  matter,  as  known  or  knowable,  are  only  two 
-different  series  of  phenomena  or  qualities;  mind  and  matter,  as 
unknown  and  unknowable,  are  the  two  substances  in  which  these 
two  different  series  of  phenomena  or  qualities  are  supposed  to  in- 
here. The  existence  of  an  unknown  substance  is  only  an  infer- 
ence we  are  compelled  to  make,  from  the  existence  of  known 
phenomena;  and  the  distinction  of  two  substances  is  only  inferred 
trom  the  seeming  incompatibility  of  the  two  sei  ol  phenomena 
to  coinhere  in  one. 

Our  whole  knowledge  of  mind  and  matter  is  thus,  as  we  have 
said,  only  "relative;"  of  existence,  absolutely  and  in  itself,  we 
know  nothing;  and  we  may  say  of  man  what  Virgil  savs  of 
/Eneas,  contemplating  in  the  prophetic  sculpture  of  his  shield  the 
future  glories  of  Rome — 

"Rerumque  ignarus,  imagine  gaudet." 
— Hamilton's  Lectures,  pp.   96-7. 

The  two  most  salient  and  most  important  points  of 
criticism  are  the  following : 

The  first  is  upon  the  use  of  the  word  relative. 
Doubtless  it  is  true,  that  we  know  nothing  out  of  relation 
to  our  faculties.  Any  thing  absolute, in  any  such  sense  as 
that  it  is  out  of  relation  to  our  faculties,  can  neither  he  an 
object  of  knowledge  nor  of  faith;  but  to  all  intents  and 
purposes,  it  would  and  must  be  to  us  as  though  it  did 
•not  exist.  But  when,  just  afterwards,  the  author 
speaks  of  matter  as  thus  absolute,  i.  e.,  as  out  of  all  rela- 
tion to  our  faculties,  it  is  on  the  assumption  that  it  is  so 
by  virtue  of  being  out  of  relation  to  it  its  own  attributes. 
The  language  is:  "But  this  something,  absolutely  and 
in  itself,  i.  e.,  considered  apart  from  its  phenomena,  is  to 
us  as  zero."  There  exists,  and  to  us  there  can  be,  no  such 
thing  as  mind  or  matter  in  any  such  isolation  or  state  of 
abstraction  as  is  here  supposed.     There  is  and  can  be  no 


LECTURE   OF    PRES.    LAWS.  395 

such  thing  as  matter  or  mind  believed,  known  or  con- 
ceived apart  from  its  properties,  as  there  can  exist  in  na- 
ture no  properties  except  in  the  concrete.  The  same  is 
as  true  of  moral  as  of  physical  properties.  And  neither 
mind  nor  matter,  ;is  substance,  is  by  any  one  contem- 
plated as  a  real  existence  apart  from  its  properties.  The 
doctrine  of  relativity  in  its  true  sense,  does  not,  there- 
fore, cut  off  either  substantive  matter  or  mind  from  be- 
ing- objects  of  knowledge.  There  is  and  can  be  no  such 
thing  as  a  relation  apart  from  the  things  related. 

2.  This  leads  to  the  second  criticism  which  is,  that 
we  do  not  have  any  such  naked  phenomenal  knowl- 
edge, projected  on  a  back  ground  of  total  ignorance  as 
is  here  described.  Hamilton  here  as  elsewhere  most  in- 
considerately and  inconsistently  abandons  substantial  ex- 
istence as  outside  of  the  reach  of  immediate  knowledge. 
It  is  only  placing  Hamilton  in  a  position  consistent  with 
his  better  self  to  utterly  repudiate  this  superficial  view  of 
the  case,  although  it  appears  and  reappears  so  frequently 
and  forcibly  in  his  various  writings  as  to  have  deter- 
mined the  opinion  of  very  many  against  him  as  being  a 
mere  phenomenalism  But  in  numerous  passages  set- 
ting forth  the  fundamental  features  of  Rcid's  system,  he 
speaks  of  matter  as  well  as  of  the  mental  self,  as  the 
objects  of  intuitive  knowledge  or  consciousness.  It  is 
only  by  viewing  his  utterances  in  the  light  of  the  dis- 
tinction between  the  phenomenal  and  noumenal  intui- 
tions, which  has  been  taken  and  submitted  in  what  pre- 
cedes, that  his  better  self  stands  forth  in  powerful  vindi- 
cation of  the  immediate  philosophic  knowledge  of  mat- 
ter and  mind,  not  only  as  phenomenal  but  as  substantial 
realities.  Indeed,  this  is  the  very  point  of  his  generous 
and  magnificent  exposition  and  defence  of  Reid,  the 
founder  of  the  Scotch   school  of  Metaphysics,    of   which 


896  UNIVERSITY   OF  MISSOURI* 

Sir  William  Hamilton,  who  died  in  1S58,  is  by  far  the 
most  learned  and  able  disciple.  A  few  citations  will 
make  this  vital  point  sufficiently  evident:  "In  an  intui- 
tive act,"  he  says,  "the  object  is  known  as  actually  ex- 
isting."    Again: 

la  the  first  place  knowledge  and  existence  are  then  only  con- 
vertible when  the  reality  is  known  in  itself  because  it  exists,  and 
exists  since  it  is  known.     Nor  did  Reid  contemplate  any  other. 

Again  he  says: 

Of  the  doctrine  of  an  intuitive  perception  of  external  objects, 
which,  as  a  fact  of  consciousness,  ought  to  be  unconditionally  ad- 
mitted,— Reid  has  the  merit  in  these  latter  times  of  being  the  first 
champion. 

But  the  very  first  fact  of  our  experience  contradicts  the  asser- 
tion, that  mind,  as  of  an  opposite  nature,  can  have  no  immediate 
cognisance  of  matter;  for  the  primary  datum  of  consciousness  is, 
that  in  perception,  we  have  an  intuitive  knowledge  of  the  "ego" 
and  of  the  "non-ego,"  ecpially  and  at  once." 

This  I  shall  illustrate  by  a  memorable  example  —by  one  in  refer- 
ence to  the  very  cardinal  point  of  philosophy.  In  the  act  of  sensi- 
ble perception,  I  am  conscious  of  two  things — of  "myself"  as  the 
"perceiving  subject,"  and  of  an  "external  reality,"  in  relation  with 
my  sense,  as  the  "object  perceived."  Of  the  existence  of  both 
these  things  I  am  convinced:  because  I  am  conscious  of  knowing 
each  of  them,  not  mediately,  in  something  else,  "as  represented," 
but  immediately  in  itself,  as  existing.  Of  their  mutual  indepen- 
dence I  am  no  less  convinced;  because  each  is  apprehended 
equally,  and  at  once,  in  the  same  indivisible  energy,  the  one  not 
preceding  nor  determining,  the  other  not  following  nor  determined  ; 
and  because  each  is  apprehended  out  of,  and  in  direct  contrast  to 
the  other. 

Such  is  the  fact  of  perception  as  given  in  consciousness,  and  as 
it  affords  to  mankind  in  general  the  conjunct  assurance  they 
possess,  of  their  own  existence,  and  of  the  existence  of  an  external 
world. 

Nothing  can  be  imagined  more  monstrous  than  the  proce- 
dure of  these  philosophers,  in  attempting  to  vindicate  the  reality 
of  a  material  world,  on  the  ground  of  a  universal  belief  in  its  ex- 
istence: and  yet  rejecting  the  universal  "belief  in  the  knowledge" 
on  which  the  universal  '-belief  in  the  existence"  is  exclusively 
based. 

If  these  passages  he  taken  as  the  rule  of  judgment, 
I  know  no!  how  the  doctrine  of  a  noumenal  intuition, 
which  I    have  endeavored  to  explain    and   enforce,  could 


LECTURE   OP   PRES.    LAWS.  .'{97 

be  more  explicitly  announced.  The  substantial  cgo% 
mind,  and  the  substantial  -non- ego,  matter,  are  "equally 
and  at  once,"  according  to  his  language,  objects  of 
"intuitive  knowledge"  There  is  a  power  in  truth  which 
often  unconsciously  prevails  over  error. 

There  are  several  considerations  of  the  nature  of 
postulates  which  should  now  be  recalled,  as  having  been 
kept  clearly  before  the  mind  in  the  foregoing  discussion. 

i .  The  first  is  that  there  is  a  presumption  against  two 
substances,  if  one  is  adequate  to  the  explanation  of  the 
facts :  JBntia  non  sunt  multiplicanda  prater  necessita- 
tem.  This  is  the  import  of  the  first  of  Newton's  noted 
"Four  Rules  of  Reasoning  in  Philosophy,"  which  runs 
in  the  following  words: 

We  are  to  admit  no  more  causes  of  natural  things  than  such 
as  are  both  true  and  sufficient  to  explain  their  appearances.  To 
this  purpose  the  philosophers  say  that  nature  does  nothing  in  vain, 
and  more  is  in  vain  when  less  will  serve;  for  nature  is  pleased 
with  simplicity,  and  affects  not  the  pomp  of  superfluous  causes. — 
(Newton's  Principia,  p.  476.) 

In  the  fourteenth  century,  an  English  Schoolman, 
Occam,  had  used  this  rule  of  philosophising  in  the  inter- 
est of  idealism  so  sharply,  that  it  became  known  as 
Occam's  razor;  and  it  is  the  same  rule  out  of  which  Sir 
William  Hamilton  has  made  so  much  as  the  law  of  par- 
simony. This  rule,  let  it  be  observed,  is  not  in  the 
interest  of  any  particular  hypothesis,  but  is  only  regula- 
tive and  cautionary,  and  it  may  be  as  flagrantly  violated 
by  an  insatiable  thirst  for  unity  as  by  an  easy  going  ac- 
ceptance of  undue  multiplicity.  The  position  of  dualis- 
tic  realism  is  that  neither  matter,  nor  mind,  alone,  is 
adequate  to  explain  all  the  appearances  in  nature, — the 
facts  of  knowledge — but  that  the  two  together  are  ade- 
quate and  that  to  recognise  more  than  these  two,  would 
"be  to  affect  the  pomp  of  superfluous  causes." 


898  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

2.  The  second  criterion  of  a  legitimate  philosophy 
kept  in  mind  is  that  its  foundation  he  laid  in  knowledge, 
from  which  all  inference  is  excluded.  The  primary 
question  in  philosophy  is  not  one  of  logic  but  of  inter- 
pretation or  exposition,  wherein  our  appeal  must  he 
directly  to  consciousness  or  our  own  intuitions.  If 
matter  and  mind  as  substantial  realities,  are  known  only 
by  inference,  however  short  or  natural  the  inference, 
then  they  lie  outside  of  philosophy  and  we  have  only 
phenomenalism  left  as  legitimated  by  this  criterion;  but 
if  we  directly  intuit  both  matter  and  mind,  then  dualis- 
tic  realism  is  legitimated  and  phenomenalism  is  discred- 
ited as  spurious.  If  mind  alone  he  intuited  and  matter 
be  inferred,  then  idealism  is  true;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
materialism  is  true,  if  matter  alone  be  directly  cognised 
and  mind  be  only  an  inference.  In  what  precedes,  this 
criterion  has  not  been  forgotten,  nor  evaded,  but  con- 
sciously challenged  at  every  step  of  the  procedure.  In- 
ference may  enter  into  the  superstructure,  but  not  into 
the  foundation  as  fundamental. 

3.  The  third  criterion  which  has  presided  over  our 
thought  is  that,  as  there  is  no  knowledge  without  an 
object,  so  the  object  of  immediate  knowledge  must  be- 
individual  and  concrete.  It  cannot  be  a  modification  of 
mind,  separated  from  a  mind  modified,  nor  a  quality  of 
matter,  separate  or  apart  from  matter  modified.  Matter 
and  mind  are  known  in  their  individual  attributes  us 
concrete  realities,  each  utterly  incompatible  s\  ith  and 
antagonistic  to  the  other — the  one  having  trinai  exten- 
sion, picturable  form  and  divisibility;  the  other,  unpic- 
turable  and  indivisible  ubiquity;  the  one  is  obedient  to 
the  laws  of  mechanics  and  the  formulae  of  mathematics; 
the  other  has  free  will  and  moral  accountability.  These 
facts  in  their  totality  cannot  be  reduced  to  less  than  two 


LECTURE    OF     PRES.    LAWS.  39& 

groups,  and   hence   our   realism    must    be  dual  to  corres- 
I   i    >'  to  the  facts. 

4.  The  subjective  internal  ground  of  philosophic 
knowledge  is  th.>  possession  of  a  knowing  power  or 
energy,  which  is  native  and  ultimate,  and  which  has  the 
function  of  cognising  simultaneously  and  necessarily  both 
the  apparent  and  the  real.  As  to  matter,  this  power 
of  intuition  is  both  sensuous  and  supersensuous ;  and  as 
to  mind,  it  apprehends  not  only  the  phenomenal  but  the 
real  self.  In  what  has  been  submitted,  it  is  believed  that 
the  evidence  shows  that  the  phenomenal  and  noumenal 
demands  of  this  power  are  met  by  matter  as  truly  as  by 
mind;  and  if  so,  then  neither  is  entitled  to  push  aside  th< 
other  and  to  obtrude  itself  into  the  place  of  both.  The 
demands  of  our  internal  cognitive  power  are  alike  met  by 
each  of  these  objects  as  objects  of  knowledge,  and  there- 
fore the  mind  is  constrained  to  give  them  equal  recog- 
nition  a--  substantial,  legitimate  and  valid  existences. 

There  are  several  corollaries  from  the  philosophic 
doctrine  of  dualistic  realism  which  should  be  announced, 
before  passing  to   the  consideration  of  Theistic  Realism. 

1.  The  acceptance  of  the  substantial  reality  of 
mind  and  matter  raises  the  presumption  in  favor  of  each, 
that  it  is  naturally  imperishable.  Each  is  known  as 
permanent  in  the  midst  of  change.  The  rock  that 
stands  immovable  amidst  the  surgings  of  tides  and  storms 
for  centuries,  we  expect  to  survive  like  perturbations  in 
the  future.  "Wnen  we  say  that  matter  has  objective 
existence,  we  mean  that  it  is  something  which  exists 
altogether  independently  of  the  senses  and  brain  pro- 
cesses by  which  alone  we  are  informed  of  its  presence. 
An  exact  or  adequate  conception  of  it,  if  it  could  be 
formed,  would  probably  be  very  different  from  any  con- 
ception which   din  senses    will    ever   enable    us  to  form: 


•iOO  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

but  the  object  of  all  pure  physical  science  is  to  endeavor 
to  grasp  more  and  more  perfctly  the  nature  and  laws  of 
the  external  world." 

Physical  science  is  based  entirely  upon  the  testi- 
mony of  the  senses  in  observation  and  experiment  and 
upon  the  mathematical  deductions  therefrom.  It  "deals 
fearlessly  alike  with  quantities  too  great  to  be  distinctly 
conceived  and  too  small  to  be  perceived  by  the  aid  of 
the  most  powerful  microscopes;  such  as,  for  instance, 
distances  through  which  the  light  of  stars  or  nebulae, 
though  moving  at  the  rate  of  186,000  miles  per  second, 
takes  many  years  to  travel ;  or  the  size  of  the  particles 
of  water,  whose  number  in  a  single  drop  may,  as  we 
have  reason  to  believe,  amount  to  somewhere  about 

1  o2S  =  1 00,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000. 
(One  hundred  times  one  hundred  thousand  million  times 
one  hundred  thousand  millions=ioo  septillions,  French 
notation.] 

"Yet  we  successfully  inquire  not  only  into  the  composi- 
tion of  the  atmospheres  of  these  distant  stars,  but  into 
the  number  and  properties  of  these  water-particles,  nay, 
even  into  the  laws  by  which  they  act  upon  one 
another.  The  grand  test  of  the  reality  of  what 
we  call  matter,  the  proof  that  it  has  an.  objective  exist- 
ence, is  its  indestructability  and  uncreateability — if  the 
term  may  be  used — by  any  process  at  the  command  of 
man.  The  value  of  this  test  to  modern  chemistry  can 
scarcely  be  estimated.  In  fact  we  can  barely  believe 
that  there  could  have  existed  an  exact  science  of  chemis- 
try had  it  not  been  for  the  early  recognition  of  this 
property  of  matter;  nor  in  fact  would  there  be  the  pos- 
sibility of  a  chemical  analysis,  supposing  that  we  had 
not  the  assurance  by  enormously  extended  series  of  pre- 
vious experiments,  that   no  portion   of  matter,  however 


LECTURE   OF   PRE.S.    LAWS.  401 

small,  goes  out  of  existence  in  any  operation  whatever. 
*  *  *  This  then  is  to  be  looked  upon  as  the 
great  test  of  the  objective  reality  of  matter.  It  is 
only,  however,  within  comparatively  recent  years 
that  it  has  been  generally  recognised,  that  there  is  some- 
ing  else  in  the  physical  universe  which  possesses  to  the 
full  as  high  a  claim  to  objective  reality  as  matter  posses- 
ses, though  it  is  by  no  means  so  tangible,  and  therefore 
the  conception  of  it  was  much  longer  in  forcing  itself 
upon  the  human  mind.  *  *  *  The  grand  principle  of 
Conservation  of  Energy,  which  asserts  that  no  portion 
of  energy  can  be  put  out  of  existence,  and  no  amount  of 
energy  can  be  brought  into  existence  by  any  process  at 
our  command,  is  simply  a  statement  of  the  invariability 
of  the  quantity  of  energy  in  the  universe — a  companion 
statement  to  that  of  the  invariability  of  the  quantity 
of  matter.  Just  as  gold,  lead,  oxygen,  etc.,  are 
different  kinds  of  matter;  so  sound,  light,  heat,  etc.. 
are  now  ranked  as  different  forms  of  energy,  which,  has 
been  shown  to  have  as  much  claim  to  objective  reality 
as  matter  has." — (Tait's  Recent  Advances  in  Phvs.  Sci., 
pp.  346,  4,  14,  15,  17,  3.)  The  fact  is,  however,  that 
physical  energy  is  not  known  apart  from  matter,  nor  is 
matter  known  apart  from  energy;  so  that,  the  nori  ego 
which  we  intuit,  or  immediately  cognise,  is  a  concrete 
object  possessing  extension  and  energy.  In  like  manner, 
as  to  our  internal  selfhood,  no  alembic  nor  crucible  has 
ever  dissipated  our  personal  identity  which  surmounts 
all  obstacles  and  survives  all  the  mutations  from  the 
cradle  to  the  grave,  and  even  the  grave  may  be  only  the 
occasion  of  its  shaking  the  dust  of  earth  from  its  wings 
and  pluming  itself  for  the  bolder  flight  of  another  and 
an  immortal  life. 

The  natural  reason   for  the  imoerishableness  of  the 


402  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

soul  is  as  legitimate  and  cogent  as  for  the  indestructible- 
ness  of  matter — not  its  combinations,  which  are  mutable 
and  perishable,  but  its  ultimate  elements,  whatever  these 
may  be.  Those  who  hold  the  theistic  theory  of  the 
universe,  standing  as  they  do  in  the  recognised  presence 
of  omnipotence,  esteem  both  the  actual  and  the  contin- 
ued existence  of  each  as  contingent  on  the  good  pleasure 
of  the  Deity.  "The  doctrine  of  an  immortal  spirit  will 
never  come  from  the  dissecting  room  nor  the  laboratory, 
unless  it  is  first  carried  thither  from  a  higher  sphere. 
Yet  there  is  nothing  in  these  workshops  that  can  efface 
it,  any  more  than  their  gasses  and  exhalations  can  blot 
out  the  stars  from  heaven."  Whatever  be  the  soul's 
origin,  it  is  naturally  inferred  from  its  simplicity  and  in- 
divisibility, its  persistent  identity  and  individuality,  to- 
gether with  its  ever  prevailing  unity  of  consciousness, 
that  it  is  so  constituted  as  to  be  naturally  destined  to  im- 
mortality, without  the  loss  or  impairment  of  its  native 
powers  or  of  its  acquired  treasures.  Matter  as  known 
is  real,  and  no  part  of  it,  nor  of  its  store  of  energy,  can 
be  destroyed  by  any  known  means;  and  shall  we  say 
less  of  spirit  and  of  its  princely  stores  of  energy?  The 
natural  and  resolute  presumption  of  the  soul's  immortal- 
ity is  the  bed-rock  on  which  may  be  built  the  super- 
structure of  argument  drawn  from  diverse  sources;  and 
this  presumption  casts  the  burden  of  proof  on  those 
who  would  deny  our  heirship  to  eternity. 

2.  Again:  if  mind  and  matter  are  reciprocally  od- 
jective  and  concrete  realities,  then  time  and  space  must 
have  objective  and  empirical  reality.  It  is  the  present- 
ment in  consciousness  of  concrete  phenomena,  as  actual 
and  as  in  succession,  which  arouses  into  action  the  native 
noumenal  intuition  of  space  and  time  as  permanent  ele- 
ments of  the  fact  of  knowledge.     All  movements,  men- 


LECTURE    OF    PBES.   LAWS.  403 

tal  and  material,  presuppose  both  space  and  duration. 
A  thought,  as  certainly  as  the  falling  of  an  apple,  must 
occur  somewhere  as  well  as  some  when;  and  thus  we  see 
that  mind,  as  truly  as  matter,  bears  inexorable  but  wholly 
unlike  relations  to  space.  Hence,  all  attempts  at  localis- 
ing mind  other  than  where  its  presence  is  attested  by 
consciousness,  or  at  subjecting  mind  to  the  conditions  of 
trinal  extension,  which  are  the  space  relations  peculiar 
to  matter,  unwittingly,  or  purposely  tend  to  its  materi- 
alization ,  i.  e.,  to  its  subversion  as  a  substantial  object  of 
knowledge  and  existence.  Love,  hope,  joy,  fear,  sorrow, 
thought  and  other  mental  states,  are  certainly  apprecia- 
ble as  having  a  local  habitation  within  the  sphere  of  our 
bodily  selves  and  as  having  intelligible  degrees  of 
rational  magnitude,  but  no  one  conceives  of  them  as 
capable  of  being  adjusted  by  the  points  of  the  compass, 
nor  as  capable  of  measurement  with  yard  sticks  and  tape 
lines.  Those  permanent  elements  of  knowledge  which 
exist  independently  of  the  existence  or  activity  of  our 
minds  are  obviously  not  originated  by  us.  Such  are 
time  and  space.  We  conceive,  we  do  not  constitute 
them:  and  so  of  mind  and  matter,  we  cognise,  we  do 
not  create  them. 

3.  Dualistic  realism  likewise  reveals  a  duality  of 
energy.  Substance  as  comprehensive  of  attributes  is 
necessarily  potential,  or  a  depository,  of  energy.  Energy 
is  not  an  abstraction,  but  an  attribute  of  substantial 
reality.  It  is  the  very  essence  of  causality,  which  must 
be  twofold  as  the  only  two  concrete  causal  agents  of 
which  we  have  knowledge,  are  mind  and  matter.  It 
was  as  a  part  of  his  philosophy  of  nihilism,  that  Hume 
denied  causality.  The  conservation  of  energy,  though 
not  fully  demonstrated,  is,  nevertheless,  prudently 
accepted    as    beyond     question:;    but     it    has    not    been 


404  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

sufficiently  considered,  that  its  sphere  is  wholly  within 
the  domain  of  matter.  The  attempt  to  reduce  the 
energy  of  mind  to  mechanical  laws  and  thus  to  merge 
it  in  the  energy  of  matter  is  a  miserable  failure — even 
living  matter,  in  its  lowest  bioplastic  condition,  accord- 
ing to  n^ost  careful  and  competent  observers,  "manifests 
certain  phenomena  not  to  be  accounted  for  by  physics." 
— (The  Machinery  of  Life  by  Dr.  Lionel  S.  Beale,  pp. 
19  and  45.)  Again,  it  has  not  been  sufficiently  considered 
that,  even  were  the  phenomena  of  physical  life  reduci- 
ble to  mechanical  laws,  still  realistic  dualism  would  not 
thereby  be  invalidated.  An  accute  and  cautious  advo- 
cate of  the  mechanical  view  says: 

It  is  certain  that  the  materials  of  the  organism  are  to  a  great 
extent  subject  to  the  common  laws  of  mechanical  and  chemical 
forces.  It  is  not  proved  that  these  same  forces;  are  incompetent  to 
produce  the  whole  series  of  interstitial  changes  in  which  the  func- 
tions of  life  common  to  vegetables  and  animals  consist.  On  the 
contrary,  the  mt>re  we  vary  our  experiments  and  extend  our  ob- 
servation, the  more  difficult  we  find  the  task  of  assigning  limits  to 
their  power. 

But    whatever    the    ultimate    determination    of  the 

problem  of  vital    action   in   the    physical    organism,    the 

distinctness  of  the   spiritual   part  as   the  embodiment  of 

an  energy  not  to  be   confounded  with  nor  merged  into 

the  energy  of  matter,  is  very  strikingly  put  by  this  very 

author,  who  favors  the   mechanical  view   of  bodily  life. 

He  says: 

If  we  take  in  a  ton  every  twelvemonth,  in  the  shape  of  food, 
drink,  and  air,  and  get  rid  of  only  a  quarter  of  it  unchanged  into 
our  own  substance,  wc  die  ten  times  a  year — not  all  of  us  at  any 
one  time,  but  a  portion  of  us  at  every  moment.  It  is  a  curious 
consequence  of  this,  we  may  remark  by  the  way,  that  if  the  refuse 

ny  of  our  great  cities  were  properly  economized,  its  popula- 
tion would  eat  itself  over  and  over  again  in  the  course  of  every 
generation.  *  *  *  We  have  no  evidence  that  any  single  portion 
of  the  body  resists  decomposition  longer  during  life  than  after 
death.  Only,  all  that  decays  is  at  once  removed  while  the  living 
state  continues. 


LECTURE    OF     FRES.    LAWS.  405 

If  the  reader  of  this   paper  live  another  complete  year,  hi* 

■self-conscious  principle  will  have  migrated  from  its  present  tene- 
ment to  another,  the  raw  materials,  even,  of  which  are  not  as 
put  together.  A  portion  of  that  body  of  his  which  is  to  he  will 
ripen  in  the  corn  of  the  next  harvest.  Another  portion  of  hi* 
future  person  he  will  purchase,  or  others  will  purchase  for  him, 
headed  up  in  the  form  of  certain  barrels  of  potatoes.  A  third 
fraction  is  yet  to  he  gathered  in  a  Southern  rice-field.  The  limbs 
with  which  lie  is  then  if)  walk  will  be  clad  with  flesh  borrowed 
from  the  tenants  of  many  stalls  and  pastures,  now  unconscious  of 
their  doom.  The  very  organs  of  speech  with  which  he  is  to  talk 
so  wisely,  or  plead  so  eloquently,  or  preach  so  effectively,  must 
first  serve  his  humbler  brethren  to  bleat,  to  bellow,  and  for  all  the 
varied  utterances  of  bristled  or  leathered  barn-yard  life.  His  bones 
themselves  are,  to  a  great  extent,  "in  pOsse,"  and  not  "in  esse."  A 
bag  of  phosphate  of  lime  which  he  has  ordered  from  Professor 
Mapes,  for  his  grounds,  contains  a  large  part  of  what  is  to  be  his 
next  year's  skeleton.  And,  more  than  all  this,  as  by  far  the  great 
er  part  of  his  bodj'  is  nothing,  after  all,  but  water,  the  main  sub- 
stance  of  his  scattered  members  is  to  be  looked  for  in  the  reser- 
voir, in  the  running  streams,  at  the  bottom  of  the  well,  in  the 
clouds  that  float  over  his  head,  or  diffused  among  them  all. 

For  a  certain  period,  then,  the  permanent  human  being  is  to 
use  the  temporarv  fabric  made  up  of  these  shifting  materials.  So 
long  as  thev  are  held  together  in  human  shape,  they  manifest  cer- 
tain properties  which  fit  them  for  the  use  of  a  self-conscious  and 
self-determining  existence.  But  it  is  as  absurd  to  suppose  any 
identification  of  this  existence  with  the  materials  which  it  puts  on 
and  off,  as  to  suppose  the  hand  identified  with  the  glove  it  wears, 
or  the  sponge  with  the  various  fluids  which  may  in  succession  fill 
its  pores.  Our  individual  being  is  in  no  sense  approximated  to  a 
potato  by  living  on  that  esculent  for  a  few  months;  and  if  we 
study  the  potato  while  it  forms  a  part  of  our  bodies  under  the 
name  of  brain  or  muscle,  we  shall  learn  no  more  of  the  true  na- 
ture of  our  self-determining  consciousness  than  if  we  studied  the 
same  tuber  in  the  hill  where  it  grew. — The  Mechanism  of  Vital 
Actions,  by   Prof.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  M.  D. 

The  following-  passage  from  one  of  the  most  emi- 
nent physicists,  Prof.  P.  G.  Tait,  exempts  mind  from 
the  domain  of  matter: 

Sir  W.  Thomson's  splendid  suggestion  of  Vortex-atoms,  if  it 
be  corret,  will  enable  us  thoroughly  to  understand  matter,  and 
mathematically  to  investigate  all  its  properties.  Yet  its  very  basis 
implies  the  absolute  necessity  of  an  intervention  of  Creative 
Power  to  form  or  to  destroy  one  atom  even  of  dead  matter.  The 
question  really  stands  thus: — Is  Life  physical  or  no?  For  if  it  be 
in  any  sense,  however  slight  or  restricted,  physical,  it  is  to  that 
■extent  a  subject  for  the  Natural  Philosopher,  and   for  him  alone- 


406  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

There  must  always  be  wide  limits  of  uncertainty  (unless  we 
choose  to  look  upon  Physics  as  a  necessarily  finite  Science)  con- 
cerning the  exact  boundary  between  the  Attainable  and  the  Un- 
attainable. One  herd  of  ignorant  people,  with  the  sole  prestige  of 
rapidly  increasing  numbers,  and  with  the  adhesion  of  a  few  fanat- 
ical deserters  from  the  ranks  of  Science,  refuse  to  admit  that  all 
the  phenomena  even  of  ordinary  dead  matter  are  strictly  and  ex- 
clusively in  the  domain  ot  physical  science.  On  the  other  hand, 
there  is  a  numerous  group,  not  in  the  slightest  degree  entitled  to 
rank  as  Physicists  (though  in  general  they  assume  the  proud  title 
of  Philosophers),  who  assert  that  not  merely  life,  but  even  Voli- 
tion and  Consciousness  are  merely  physical  manifestations.  These 
opposite  errors,  into  neither  of  which  is  it  possible  for  a  genuine 
scientific  man  to  fall,  so  long  at  least  as  he  retains  his  reason,  are 
easily  to  be  seen  very  closely  allied.  They  are  both  to  be  attribu- 
ted to  that  Credulity  which  is  characteristic  alike  of  Ignorance 
and  of  Incapacity.  Unfortunately  there  is  no  cure;  the  case  is 
hopeless,  for  great  ignorance  almost  necessarily  presumes  inca- 
pacity, whether  it  show  itself  in  the  comparatively  harmless  follv 
of  the  spiritualist  or  in  the   pernicious  nonsense  of  the  materialist. 

Alike  condemned  and  contemned,  we  leave  them  to  their 
proper  fate — oblivion;  but  still  we  have  to  face  the  question,  where 
to  draw  the  line  between  that  which  is  physical  and  that  which  is 
utterly  bejond  physics.  And,  again,  our  answer  is — experience 
alone  can  tell  us;  for  experience  is  our  only  possible  guide.  If  we 
attend  earnestly  and  honestly  to  its  teaching,  we  shall  never  go 
far  astray. — Recent  Adv.  in  Phys.  Sci.,  pp.  24-5. 

It  is  not  the  language  of  thoughtless  flippancy  but 
of  scientific  gravity,  which  is  here  used  by  Prof.  Tait  in 
characterising  the  attempt  to  refer  the  phenomena  of 
consciousness  and  free  will  to  the  laws  of  matter  as 
contemptible  and  ridiculous. 

In  a  passage  already  quoted,  Prof.  Huxley  says  that 
"There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  consciousness  is  a 
function  of  nervous  matter;"  and  on  page  291  of  the 
same  work  he  says,  "Why  'materialism'  should  he  more 
inconsistent  with  the  existence  of  a  Deity,  the  freedom  of 
the  will,  or  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  or  with  any  ac- 
tual or  possible  system  of  theology,  than  'idealism,'  I 
must  declare  myself  at  a  loss  to  divine."  Yet,  on  page 
314,  in  summing  up  the  argument  of  Berkeley,  he  says 
explicitly, — "I   conceive  that  this  reasoning  is  inefraga- 


LECTURE     OF    PRES.    LAWS.  407 

ble.  And,  therefore,  if  I  were  obliged  to  choose  be- 
tween absolute  materialism  and  absolute  idealism,  I 
should  feel  compelled  to  accept  the  latter."  Prof.  Hux- 
ley here  tells  us,  first,  that  there  is  every  reason  for  be- 
lieving in  materialism  and  that  he  cannot  divine  in  it  the 
germs  of  any  thing  destructive  of  man's  most  sacred  be- 
liefs and  hopes;  and  yet,  in  the  next  breath,  he  turns 
upon  his  heels,  bovv^  submissively  to  the  Irish  Bishop, 
and  humbly  confesses  that  in  the  alternative  he  would 
feel  bound  to  accept  of  idealism  rather  than  of  material- 
ism!  The  scientist  and  philosopher,  like  other  people, 
is  bound  to  act  rationally  and  to  accept  and  adhere  to 
what,  according  to  the  evidence  in  the  case,  appears  to 
be  the  truth,  whether  palatable  or  not.  This,  unfortu- 
nately, is  not  the  only  illustration  of  the  unsteadiness  of 
the  mercurial  nature  of  this  distinguished  scientist. 
Whatever  value  attaches  to  his  testimonv,  we  here  have 
it  in  favor  of  both  materialism  and  idealism,  and  there- 
fore his  complete  testimony  is  either  reducible  to  zero 
or  valid  only  to  the  extent  that  it  supports  dualistic  real- 
ism. It  is  believed  to  be  rigorously  true,  that  the  rejec- 
tion of  the  evidence  in  support  of  either  matter  or  mind 
must  issue  in  the  rejection  of  both,  for  the  testimony  for 
both  is  given  by  the  same  witness,  our  intuition;  so 
that  the  only  consistent  alternatives  are  nihilism  or  dual- 
ism— as  the  whole  of  our  intuition  must  be  accepted  or 
rejected,  there  is  either  no  causal  energy  in  the  universe 
or  there  is  a  twofold  causal  energy  in  the  concrete  active 
agencies  of  mind  and  matter. 

The  only  true  position  and  the  one  which  it  has 
been  the  present  endeavor  to  emphasize  is  that  mind  and 
matter  stand  abreast  in  the  path  of  knowledge;  but  if 
either  be  entitled  to  a  superior  claim  to  recognition, 
doubtless  it    must   be   mind,  for  we  know     matter   only 


4:08  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

-through  mind,  i.  c,  by  the  exercise  of  the  cognitive 
power  of  mind.  The  knowing  self  certainly  cannot  be 
less  certainly  known  as  existent  and  real  than  the  not- 
-self,  the  object  known.  But  a  discrimination  adverse  to 
•either  is  fatal  to  both.    • 

4.  The  reality  of  the  moral  factors,  which  play  a 
supreme  part  in  the  history  of  the  human  race,  finds  its 
seat  in  the  native  constitution  of  the  human  mind.  The 
Importance  of  discriminating  between  the  constitutional 
and  the  adventitious,  and  between  functions  normal  and 
abnormal,  is  as  important  in  the  world  of  mind  as  in  the 
sphere  of  organisms.  The  builders  of  governments 
rad  of  civilizations,  can  as  certainly  count  on  the  resources 
of  nature  as  the  builders  of  bridges  and  steamships. 

5.  The  final  inference  which  shall  now  be  allowed 
a  notice,  is  cautionary.  It  would  be  a  total  misconcep- 
tion of  wnat  precedes  to  understand  it  as  in  any  way 
attempting  to  exhibit  the  maximum  of  our  knowledge 
®t  mind  and  matter;  on  the  contrary,  it  would  be  nearer 
the  truth  to  understand  it  as  giving  the  minimum  of  such 
knowledge.  As  intelligent  corporeal  beings,  placed  in 
the  midst  of  our  actual  environments,  we  cannot  but 
know  ourselves  and  something  not  ourselves  and  believe 
and  act  upon  the  assumption  of  the  reality  and  truthful- 
ness of  this  knowledge.  But  after  having  gained  this 
footing,  we  have  picked  up  only  a  grain  of  sand  from 
.the  ocean  beach,  and  yet  we  are  placed  thereby  in  a  sit- 
uation to  appreciate  with  keener  zest  the  special  sciences 
relating  to  mind  and  matter,  all  of  which  presuppose 
and  assume  in  some  vague  and  it  may  be  unsatisfactory 
way,  what   metaphysics   endeavors  to  supply  in  the  way 

-of  exposition  and  elucidation.  Hence  its  aim  is  not 
isolated  but  in  common  relation  to  the  several  sub-divis- 
ions of  knowledge.   When,  in  the  light  of  reflection,  the 


LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  409 

primary  and  spontaneous  act  of  knowing  is  interpreted 
and  mind  is  ascertained  to  be  immediately  percipient  of 
self  and  also  of  not-self  or  matter,  we  do  not  understand 
how  this  can  be  so  but  only  the  fact  that  it  is  so.  Even 
Newton  himself  did  not  pretend  to  understand  the  ulti- 
mate nature  of  gravitation,  but  he  deemed  its  reality  and 
value  beyond  question.  He  says:  "But  hitherto  I  have 
not  been  able  to  discover  the  cause  of  those  properties 
of  gravity  from  phenomena,  and  I  frame  no  hypothesis. 
*  *  *  And  to  us  it  is  enough  that  gravity  does  really 
exist,  and  act  according  to  the  laws  which  we  have  ex- 
plained."— (Newton's  Principia,  pp.  ^06-7.)  The  most 
incomprehensible  mysteries  of  the  universe  are  epito- 
mized in  man  himself,  as  expressed  in  the  following 
language  by  Pascal:  "Man  is  to  himself  the  mightest 
prodigy  of  nature;  for  he  is  unable  to  conceive  what  is 
body,  still  less  what  is  mind,  but  least  of  all  is  he  able  to 
conceive  how  a  body  can  be  united  to  a  mind;  yet  this 
is  his  proper  being." — (Pensee's  partic,  i,  art.  vi,  p.  26.) 
What  we  intuitively  know  is  only  a  small  island  in 
the  midst  of  a  boundless  ocean.  Setting  forth  from  the 
sure  haven  of  this  island  home,  our  inferential  or  discur- 
sive powers  explore  the  surrounding  heights  and  depths, 
and  faith  feels  yearnings  which  can  be  satisfied  only  by 
the  voice  of  the  Eternal  One. 


3.  Theistic  realism.  It  has  been  said  in  what  pre- 
cedes, that  ontology  or  metaphysics  deals  with  the  facts 
of  consciousness,  not  merely  inter  se,  as  such,  but  in  re- 
lation to  realities  existing  out  of  consciousness;  also,  that 
the  one  point  in  common  with  all  realists  is  that, 
in    the   act  of   knowledge,   we    grasp   phenomena  phis 


410  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

substantial  reality.  The  substantial  realities  which,  as 
we  have  seen,  are  immediately  known  through  our 
noumenal  intuition,  are  matter  and  mind.  The  primary 
sphere  of  the  manifestation  of  this  distinction  between 
mind  and  matter,  as  separate  but  intimately  associated 
substantial  realities,  is  in  our  sensible  relations  to  an  ex- 
ternal world  as  different  from  ourselves  and  yet  so  far 
forth  as  in  contact  with  us,  intuitively  known.  If  we 
find  not  in  the  constitution  of  man  himself,  the  dual 
realities  of  mind  and  matter,  it  is  in  vain  that  we  go  in 
search  of  them  elsewhere  throughout  the  whole  universe 
beside.  But,  having  the  light  of  this  duality  of  our  own 
constitution  as  a  brightly  burning  torch  in  our  hands, 
then  in  the  search  for  God  as  distinct  from  the  world, 
we  can  intelligently  scrutinize  what  may  purport  to  be 
the  foot  prints  of  an  author  of  nature  as  distinct  from 
nature  itself.  But  to  go  forth  without  having  first 
settled  this  preliminary  question  as  to  the  reality 
and  duality  of  matter  and  mind,  and  to  expect  to  lay 
hold  of  this  truth  in  some  remote  corner  of  the  universe, 
is  not  a  cautious  and  prudent  way  of  attempting  to  rise 
through  nature  and  nature's  laws  up  to  nature's  God, 
but  a  rash  attempt  to  lay  hasty  and  violent  hands  on  him 
by  strategy.  The  sovereign  reality  cannot  be  thus  cap- 
tured. The  heights  of  his  abode  must  be  attained  by 
treading  the  narrow  path  of  self-knowledge. 

We  must  first  know  ourselves  and  the  universe,  if 
we  would  know  God  and  the  universe.  God  is  a  spirit 
and  they  that  seek  him  must  seek  him  in  spirit  and 
in  truth. 

We  are  not  con  scions  of  God.  Taking  conscious- 
ness in  its  fullest  import  as  the  organ  of  immediate 
knowledge  both  of  appearance  and  of  reality,  of  phe- 
nomena and   of   noumena,  in  other  words,   taking  con- 


LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  411 

sciousness  as  the  full  equivalent  of  the  phenomenal  and 
noumenal  intuition,  the  statement  here  made  is,  that  we 
do  not  know  God  intuitively,  we  are  not  conscious  of 
God.  He  is  not,  in  either  its  phenomenal  or  noumenal 
sense,  an  object  of  intuition.  It  is  feared  that  the  ex- 
pression "inferential  intuition"  previously  used  may  be 
misleading,  unless  it  be  so  explained  as  that  it  will  be 
seen  and  understood  clearly,  that  whilst  we  may  be  con- 
scious of  the  operation  of  mind  which  makes  the  infer- 
ence, and  of  the  inference  itself,  vet  the  inference  is  made 
by  the  discursive  or  logical  power  and  not  properly  by 
the  power  of  intuition,  which,  in  its  distinctive  function 
deals  with  self-evident  truths  and  not  with  inferences  or 
logical  arguments.  The  existence  of  God  is  not  self- 
evident  but  inferential.  It  is  a  question  of  mediate  evi- 
dence and  cumulative  proof,  and  not  of  direct  knowl- 
edge. It  is  not  a  self-evident  matter,  but  one  of  infor- 
mation. If  we  were  conscious  of  God,  we  would  have 
no  occasion  to  seek  Him.  No:  God-consciousness  is  the 
shibboleth  of  Pantheism. 

The  definition  of  God  which  the  evidence  adduci- 
ble  suggests  is,  that  He  is  an  omnipotent  spiritual  being, 
infinite,  eternal,  omniscient,  good,  just  and  truthful.  The 
worlds  of  mind  and  matter  show  the  impress  of  these 
attributes  which  can  only  exist  as  the  attributes  of  a 
concrete  Being.  God  is  not  the  infinite,  nor  the  abso- 
lute nor  any  other  abstraction.  We  cheat  ourselves  in 
supposing  it. 

The  evidence  in  proof  of  God's  existence  and  char- 
acter may  be  arranged  under  seven  leading  heads:  i. 
The  historical,  which  undertakes  to  set  forth  the  simple 
state  of  opinion  touching  this  matter  in  the  different  ages 
among  the  different  peoples;  2.  the  apriori,  or  so-called 
ontological    proof,  which   proceeds  as  did  Descartes,  to 


412  ONIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

conclude  the  fact  of  an  all  perfect  being  from  the  idea 
of  such  a  being;  3.  the  cosmological  proof,  or  the  inter- 
pretation of  the  principle  of  efficient  causality  relative  to 
the  phenomena  of  mind  and  matter;  4.  the  teleological 
argument,  or  a  like  exposition  of  the  principle  of  final 
causes;  5.  goodness;  6.  justice;  7.  truth.  The  last  five 
lines  of  evidence  have,  it  is  believed,  unanswerable 
value;  the  first  two  have  more  literary  than  logical  im- 
port. 

In  the  work  of  Prof.  Tait  already  quoted,  p.  26,  he 
speaks  of  "the  fact  that  all  portions  of  our  science,  and 
especially  that  beautiful  one,  the  dissipation  of  energy, 
point  unanimously  to  a  beginning,  to  a  sta^e  of  things 
incapable  of  being  derived  by  present  laws  of  tangible 
matter  and  its  energy  from  any  conceivable  previous  ar- 
rangement." 

Says  J.  S.  Mill,  whom  no  one  will  suspect  as  pre- 
judiced in  favor  of  Theism :  "There  is  nothing  to  dis- 
prove the  creation  and  government  of  Nature  by  a 
sovereign  will;  but  is  there  anything  to  prove  it?" — 
(Posthumous  Essays,  p.  137.)  This  question  he  answers 
on  subsequent  pages,  (174-5,)  thus:  "Leaving  this  re- 
markable speculation — 'the  survival  of  the  fittest' — to 
•whatever  fate  the  progress  of  discovery  may  have  in 
store  for  it,  I  think  it  must  be  allowed  that,  in  the  pres- 
ent state  of  our  knowledge,  the  adaptations  in  Nature 
afford  a  large  balance  of  probability  in  favor  of  creation 
by  intelligence.  *  *  *  *  *  *  The  argument  is  greatly 
strengthened  by  the  properly  inductive  considerations 
which  establish  that  there  is  some  connection  through 
causation  between  the  origin  of  the  arrangements  of 
nature  and  the  ends  they  fulfil."  As  to  the  attribute  of 
goodness,  (pp.  190-1)  he  says:  "Yet  endeavoring  to 
look  at  the  question  without  partiality   or  prejudice  and 


LECTURE    OF    PKES.    LAWS.  413' 

without  allowing  wishes  to  have  any  influence  over 
judgment,  it  does  appear  that  granting  the  existence  of 
design — [which  is  unmistakably  granted  in  the  passage 
just  quoted],  there  is  a  preponderance  of  evidence  that 
the  Creator  desired  the  pleasure  of  his  creatures.  *  *  * 
For  whatever  force  we  attach  to  the  analogies  of  Nature 
with  the  effect  of  human  contrivance,  there  is  no  disput- 
ing the  remarks  of  Paley,  that  what  is  good  in  nature 
exhibits  those  analogies  much  oftener  than  what  is  evil." 
— (p.  i  iS.)  The  essay  on  Theism  from  which  all  the 
above  extracts,  except  the  last,  are  taken,  Mr.  Mill's 
editress  informs  us  (pp.  viii  and  x),is  "the  last  considera- 
ble work  which  he  completed,  it  shows  the  latest  state  of 
the  author's  mind,  the  carefully  balanced  result  of  the 
deliberations  of  a  lifetime."  The  logical  conclusions  as 
to  intelligence  and  benevolence  being  evidenced  in 
nature  as  attributes  of  its  author,  arc  fairly  quoted,  al- 
though his 'individual  views  were  strangely  discordant 
with  what  might  be  expected  from  these  statements.  But 
it  is  a  fair  reflection,  that  the  reluctance  of  the  testimony 
of  this  expert  logician  only  adds  strength  to  the  support 
it  gives  to  the  doctrine  of  theism. 

However,  attention  must  be  now  withdrawn  from 
the  general  argument,  as  it  is  not  possible  to  do  more 
than  give  this  passing    intimation  of  its  drift. 

But  a  general  observation  to  which  especial  atten- 
tion is  called  in  this  connection  is,  that  this  inferential 
procedure,  however  comprehensively  and  skillfully  con- 
ducted, is  not  one  of  discovery  but  of  construction.  It 
seems  to  be  very  plain  that  man  by  searching  could 
never  find  out  the  fact  of  the  existence  of  such  a  being 
;;s  this  God — it  is  meaningless  to  speak  of  knowing  the 
fact  of  his  existence  apart  from  his  character  or  attri- 
butes.     In  a  scientific  procedure,  the  conclusion   of  an 


414  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 

induction    must  be  no    broader   than    the   facts    known. 
The  house   must    not   overlap   but    stand  flush   with   its 
foundation.     Concede  that  the  whole  universe  of  known 
mind  and  matter  has  been  analyzed   and   then    reduced 
to  a  synthesis;  the  tacts   not  being    infinite    they    could 
not     suggest   nor   warrant    the   infinite   as  an    induction 
of  knowledge.     No;    the    natural    and  inevitable   doom 
of  the  human  mind — of  any  finite  mind,  left  to   its  own 
search   in  this  finite  universe  for  the  ultimate  ground  of 
all  things,  is  not   theism.     The  doctrine  of  theism  or  of 
theistic  realism  is  not  a   scientific  discover}-  nor  a  matter 
of  cognitive  philosophy.     The  proofs    mentioned   above 
only    serve    to    construct    the    evidence   in    support    of 
the  propostion  that  there  is   a  God,  such  as  defined,   but 
not    to    discover    it.     It    is   like     constructing    the    evi- 
dence at  present  in  support  of  the  law  of  gravitation.     It 
took  Newton  to  formulate  and   announce  this   law,  but  a 
school  child   can   now   understand  its   import  and   proof. 
In  the  beginning    God  created    the  heavens  and    the 
earth.     But  let  the  proposition  which  announces  God's 
existence  and  character  come  whence  it  may,  the  evidence 
from  nature  in  support  of  that  proposition  which   chal- 
enges  our  attention,  when  sifted  and  articulately  compac- 
ted, ^constitutes  what  is  known  as  Natural  Theology.     It 
has  become  my  custom  to  treat  Natural  Theology  as  the 
highest  phase  of  ontology   or   metaphysics,  for  it  i;>re- 
supposes  and  subsidises  rational  and  philosophic  or  noum- 
enal  ontology.      There  is  perhaps  no  department    of  in- 
quiry more  in   need  of  reconstruction  than  this  one,   and 
the  present  state  of  the   sciences   greatly  strengthens  its 
positions  by  new  elucidations  and   vast  stores   of  cumu 
lative  proof. 

It  may   be  well  to  notice  that,  as  the  knowledge  of 
God  is  contingent  and  not  self-evident  and  necessary,  its 


LKCTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  415 

fate  is  precarious;  it  may  not  exist,  or  it  may  die  out.  How 
often  has  it  died  out!  The  race  probably  started  with  it, 
but,  tested  by  the  standard  of  our  definition  which  is  be- 
lieved to  rest  in  all  its  parts  on  fair  inferences  from  na- 
ture, the  knowledge  of  this  true  God  has  been,  as  a  his- 
toric fact,  displaced  among  most  of  the  nations  of  the 
earth.  The  plain  and  sad  truth  in  this  case  is  believed 
to  be  concisely  stated  in  the  following  words  of  Leland: 
It  is  also  observable,  as  I  shall  shew  distinctly  in  another 
place,  that  when  the  Pagan  authors,  who  lived  before  the  times  of 
Christianity,  urge  the  consent  of  nations  against  the  atheists  in 
proof  of  a  Deity,  they  generally  speak  of  Gods  in  the  plural  and 
not  of  one  God  only.  Yet,  notwithstanding  their  polytheism. 
and  the  many  gods  they  acknowledged  and  worshipped,  which  was 
a  great  and  most  culpable  defection  from  th6  true  primitive  relig- 
ion, they  still  retained  in  some  degree  the  idea  of  one  supreme  Di- 
vinity. "  But  it  must  be  owned,  that  it  seemed  at  length  to  dwindle 
into  the  notion  of  one  God,  superior  in  power  and  dignity  to  the 
rest,  but  not  of  a  different  kind  from  the  other  divinities  they 
adored,  whom  they  looked  upon  to  be  really  and  truly  gods  as  well 
as  he,  and  sharers  in  the  sovereign  dominion  with  him.  That  this 
was  the  general  popular  notion  will  appear  in  the  farther  progress 
of  this  work. — (Leland's  Chris.  Rev.  Vol.   i,  p.  86.) 

The  only  way  to  keep  this  doctrine  alive  in  the 
human  mind  is  by  each  family,  school-room  and  church 
inculcating  it  upon  the  rising  generations,  just  as  each 
age  has  to  be  taught  its  alphabet  and  multiplication  ta- 
ble. The  state  with  us  is  not  atheistic;  nor  is  state  educa- 
tion. The  moral  nature  of  man  consisting  of  intelli- 
gence, freedom  and  conscience — this  ultimate  conscious 
fact  of  man's  moral  agency,  is  pre-supjDOsed  by  every 
court  house  and  by  the  whole  machinery  of  law  and 
government.  All  this  finds  its  full  explanation  only  in 
the  justice  and  moral  government  of  the  author  and  ruler 
of  man's  nature. 

It  is  already  sufficiently  evident  that  the  power  ot 
mind  by  which  we  take  in  the  result  of  all  this  instruc- 
tion and  proof  is  faith.  Faith  is  as  legitimate  and  as 
natural    a    function    of  the    mind   as   intuition;  it   is  in 


416  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

fact  a  form  of  knowing-,  and  is  what  would  correspond 
to  our  inferential  intuition.  But  we  know  God  not 
properly  by  intuition  but  by  faith.  The  object  of  a  true 
faith  is  as  real  as  the  object  of  consciousness,  but  the  light 
in  which  we  see  it  is  not  that  of  self-evidence.  Theistic 
realism,  therefore,  takes  its  place  properly  by  the  side 
of  philosophic  realism  as  its  complement  and  comple- 
tion and  not  as  its  substitute  nor  as  its  rival  or  antago- 
nist. "There  are  three  spheres  of  wonder  in  thought. 
The  lowest  is  simple  matter,  with  its  mysteries  and 
beauty  and  grandeur.  The  highest  is  pure  Spirit,  the 
self-existent  cause  of  the  universe,  and  his  angels.  Mid- 
way between  is  the  being  in  whom  spirit  takes  to  itself 
matter,  not  that  they  may  mechanically  cohere,  but  that 
a  new  world  of  wonder  may  arise — mysterious  forces, 
and  forces  which  neither  simple  matter  nor  pure  spirit 
in  their  isolation  possesses.  Matter  and  mind  conjoined 
do  not  merely  add  their  powers  each  to  each,  but  evolve 
new  powers,  incapable  of  existing  outside  of  their 
union.  *  *  *  The  philosophy  of  the  future — its  uni- 
verse shall  be  one  of  accordant,  not  of  discordant  matter 
and  mind — a  universe  held  together  and  ever  developing 
under  the  plan  and  control  of  the  one  Supreme,  who  is 
neither  absolutely  immanent,  nor  absolutely  supramun- 
dane,  but  relatively  both — immanent  in  the  sense  in 
which  deism  denies  his  presence,  supra  mundane  in  the 
sense  in  which  pantheism  ignores  his  relation.  Its  God 
shall  be  not  the  mere  maker  of  the  universe,  as  deism 
asserts,  nor  its  matter,  as  pantheism  represents  him,  but 
its  Preserver,  Benefactor,  Ruler  and  Father,  who, 
whether  in  matter  or  mind,  reveals  the  perfect  reason, 
the  perfect  love,  the  perfect  will,  the  consummate 
power,  in  absolute  and  eternal  personality."  (Dr.  C.  P. 
K  ra nth,  Vice-Provost,  University  Pa.) 


LECTURE    OF    PRES.    LAWS.  417 

The  two  groups  of  second  causes  are  those  of 
-matter  and  those  of  mind :  and  the  assumption  of  a  first 
cause  is  entitled  to  consideration  only  as  being  compati- 
ble with  their  known  distinctive  efficiency.  In  brief, 
the  dependence  of  all  second  causes  is  such  that,  without 
the  original  action  of  the  first  cause,  they  had  never 
existed  and  its  integrity  and  sufficiency  would  not  be 
impaired  by  their  ceasing  to  be.  Moreover,  during  their 
co-existence  and  continuance,  the  first  cause  bears  to  the 
second  causes  the  twofold  relation  of  sustaining  and  con- 
trolling them.  In  the  ordinary  operations  of  nature,  the 
inherent  and  peculiar  energies  of  matter  and  of  mind 
are  not  suspended  nor  superceded  as  held  by  Cartesians, 
nor  abandoned  to  themselves  as  held  by  Leibnitz,  but 
are  actively  and  unceasingly  sustained  and  controlled  by 
omnipotence  under  the  guidance  of  omniscience  tem- 
pered by  goodness,  justice  and  truth.  Nature's  opera- 
tions point  to  an  ab  extra  source  of  power  as  explana- 
tory of  their  initiative  and  also  of  their  continuance;  so 
that  by  nature's  own  teachings,  the  God  of  nature  is  not 
to  be  confounded  with  nature  itself,  nor  with  nature's 
operations;  nor  is  nature  allowed  to  supercede  its  author 
and  governor.  And  thus  theistic  realism  is  seen  to  in- 
volve a  dualism  most  profound,  with  the  finite  universe 
of  matter  and  mind  on  one  hand,  and,  on  the  other,  God 
the  Creator,  Preserver  and  Lord. 

Jonathan  Edwards,  1703- 1758,  heads  the  list  of 
American  philosophers,  and  is  one  of  the  first  thinkers 
of  all  ages;  and  as  his  towering  genius  grappled  with 
the  more  abstruse  cpaestions  in  philosophy,  whilst  pursu- 
ing his  labors  in  theology,  he  never  lost  sight  of  the 
axiom,  whose  quotation  shall  close  this  discussion — 
That  -whatever  is  true  in  theology  can  be  shown 
to  be  both   trite  and  reasonable  in  philosophy. 


SUPPLEMENT. 


The  following  three  lectures  by  Profs.  A.  F.  Fleet, 
J.  S.  Black-well  and  Conrad  Diehl,  though  not  included 
in  the  original  course  in  the  first  portion  of  this  volume, 
have  been  inserted  as  a  supplement  by  the  request  of  the 
Faculty  of  the  Missouri  State  University.  These  sup- 
plementary lectures  appear  in  the  order  of  the  appoint- 
ment of  their  authors  and  are  presented  as  their  inau- 
gurals upon  entering  on  the  labors  of  their  several 
departments.  They  were  delivered  in  the  University 
chapel  on  the  mornings  of  January  14th  and  15th,  1SS0, 
in  the  presence  of  the  Curators,  Faculty  and  Students. 


INAUGURAL  LECTURES. 


ADVANTAGES  OF  CLASSICAL  STUDY. 


By  A.  F.  Fleet,  Professor  of  Greek  and  Compar- 
ative Philology    in    the    University    of    the 
State  of  Missouri. 
Mr.  President,  Gentlemen  of  the  Board  of  Curators, 
Ladies  and  Gentlemen  : 

No  educational  question  has  been  more  warmly  dis- 
cussed during  the  nineteenth  century,  and  none  has  had 
more  ardent  champions  and  more  violent  opposers  than 
the  question  of  the  "Advantages  of  Classical  Study,"  on 
which  I  design  to  speak  to  you  briefly  to-day. 

Nor  has  its  consideration  been  confined  to  our  own 
century,  or  to  our  own  age;  for  from  the  time  of 
John  Locke,  and  later  in  a  somewhat  different  form, 
of  Dean  Swift  and  Sir  William  Temple  in  Eng- 
land, and  Fontenelle  in  France,  to  the  present  day, 
this  question  has  been  the  arena  on  which  rival  edu- 
cational factions  have  poised  the  lance  in  many  a  hard 
fought  battle,  often  more    eager,  perhaps,  to   gain   the 


422  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

victory  for  their  respective  sides  than  to  advance  the 
cause  of  truth;  or  to  discover  that  between  the  two 
extremes  in  this,  as  in  most  other  warmly  contested 
questions,  lay  always  the  safest  and  the  wisest  course. 
Permit  me  to  state,  therefore,  on  the  threshold  of 
my  address,  that  I  come  not  before  you  as  a  blind  de- 
fender of  the  study  of  the  Greek  and  the  Latin  to 
the  exclusion  of  the  modern  languages,  or  mathematics, 
or  the  physical  sciences,  or  of  history,  or  philosophy — 
not  as  a  professorial  Don  Quixote,  armed  cap-a-pie,  and 
anxious  to  encounter  in  mortal  combat  any  and  all  scien- 
tific windmills  I  may  chance  to  meet;  but  taking  off  my 
hat  to  these  invincible  giants,  and  carefully  avoiding  anv 
encounter  by  a  full  recognition  of  their  real  merits,  I 
purpose,  nevertheless,  in  the  true  spirit  of  a  genuine  dis- 
ciple of  St.  Crispin,  to  argue  with  all  comers  that  on 
earth  there  is  nothing  like  leather!  And  still  lest  I  may 
seem  too  eager,  as  was  said  to  be  the  wont  of  the  ancient 
sophists,  to  make  the  werst  appear  the  better  reason,  I 
beg  you  carefully  to  note  the  argument,  and,  if  possible, 
to  detect  the  error  in  history  or  in  logic. 

A.  prejudice  against  the  study  of  the  classics  is  not 
new.  It  has  existed  in  all  countries  in  which  these 
languages  have  formed  an  important  part  of  the  educa- 
tional course.  In  Germany,  in  England,  in  Scotland, 
the  conflict  has  been  long  and  bitter  between  the  advo- 
cates and  the  opposers  of  classical  learning,  and  with 
varying  success — the  victory  now  leaning  to  one  side  and 
now  to  the  other.  Nor  is  it  entirely  a  new  question  in 
our  own  country.  Nearly  a  hundred  years  ago  a  dis- 
tinguished scholar  of  Philadelphia  published  a  pamphlet 
on  the  subject  in  which  he  savs,  "The  expulsion  of  Latin 
and  Greek  from  our  schools  would  produce  a  revolution 
in  society    and    in    human    affairs.     That  nation    which 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    FLEET.  428 

shall  first  shake  off  the  fetters  of  those  ancient  languages 
will  advance  further  in  knowledge  and  happiness  in 
twenty  years  than  any  nation  in  Europe  has  done  in  a 
hundred."  Forty  years  later,  in  1S24,  there  appeared  in 
a  Boston  paper  a  series  of  anonymous  but  powerful  ar- 
ticles in  which  the  writer  took  the  ground  that  "the  dead 
languages  are  no  guide  to  the  signification  of  English 
words;"  "no  guide  to  English  Grammar;"  "no  benefit 
to  style;"  "that  classical  literature  is  of  little  value  as 
a  source  of  knowledge;"  "that  classical  studies  are  not 
the  be6t  means  ot  strengthening  the  understanding;" 
"and  of  not  much  value  as  an  aid  to  the  study  of  modern 
languages." 

About  the  same  time  Hon.  Thos.  S.  Grimke  of 
Charleston,  S.  C,  a  most  accomplished  scholar,  and  for 
many  years  a  diligent  and  successful  student  of  the 
classics,  in  an  address  on  the  "Character  and  Object  of 
Science,"  speaks  as  follows:  "The  whole  system  of 
education  is  destined  to  undergo  an  American  Revolu- 
tion in  a  higher  and  holier  sense  of  the  term  than  that 
of  '76,  by  the  substitution  of  a  complete  Christian 
American  education  for  the  strange  and  anomalous  com- 
pound of  the  spirit  of  ancient,  foreign,  heathen,  states  of 
society  with  the  genius  of  Modern  American  Christian 
institutions." 

Sentiments  like  these  uttered  by  scholars  of  ac- 
knowledged ability  in  different  parts  of  the  country 
could  not  but  have  their  influence,  and  the  faith  of  m  any 
was  shaken  in  the  old  curriculum,  in  which  the  Greek 
and  Latin  had  heretofore  held  an  unquestioned  promi- 
nence. Some  of  the  colleges  yielded  to  what  seemed  a 
popular  demand,  and  in  1S27,  Yale  appointed  a  commit- 
tee to  consider  the  expediency  of  dispensing  with  the 
studv  of  the  "dead  lang-uag'es."     About   the  same  time 


424  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

Amherst  College  proposed  too  parallel  courses  of  study,, 
one  to  include^  the  other  to  exchide  the  classics,  but  sub- 
stituting other  studies  therefor.  In  both  institutions, 
however,  the  new  departure  soon  ran  its  course,  and  the 
classics  were  restored  to  their  original  place  in  the 
curriculum. 

The  general  agitation  of  the  question  elicited  a 
thorough  and  exhaustive  discussion.  A  large  number 
of  able  addresses  were  delivered  in  their  defence,  and 
elaborate  articles  with  the  same  import,  were  published 
in  the  leading  journals  of  the  day,  and  for  many  years 
the  question  was  considered  settled  in  favor  of  the 
classics.  But  as  in  nature  we  look  for  periodic  returns 
of  epidemic  diseases,  and  in  the  religious  world  we 
expect  at  least  once  or  twice  every  century  a  recurrence 
of  religious  questions  long  ago  met  and  triumphantly 
answered,  so  in  the  literary  world,  and  especially  in  this 
fast  and  utilitarian  age,  in  a  day  when  the  institutions  of 
centuries  are  swept  away  by  the  stroke  of  a  pen,  when 
the  foundations  of  governments  painfully  elaborated 
from  the  brains  and  hearts  of  purest  statesmen  and  un- 
selfish patriots  are  shaken  to  their  very  base;  in  an  age 
when  such  colossal  fortunes  are  amassed  as  our  ancestors 
had  only  read  of  in  oriental  story ;  in  an  age  when  the 
foremost  question  to  every  proposition  is  "Will  it  pay?" 
— in  such  an  age  is  it  strange  that  there  has  arisen  a  new 
philosophy  despising  the  old  land-marks,  and  declaring 
in  defiance  of  the  sentiment  of  all  the  wisdom  of  the 
past,  that  there  is  a  "royal  road  to  learning,"  and  that 
the  "Open  sesame!"  to  all  useful  and  profitable  knowl- 
edge is  a  few  months  spent  in  a  study  of  the  physical 
sciences,  or  better  still  in  getting  a  "practical"  knowl- 
edge of  arithmetic  and  book-keeping,  and  banking  and 
telegraphy    and   penmanship?     Why   even   in  our  own 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    FLEET.  425 

state,  and  in  some  leading  institutions,  it  has  been  said 
that  many  a  hungry  student  has  been  given  a  stone 
when  he  asked  for  bread,  has  been  refused  even  a  drop 
to  slake  his  thirst  when  his  soul  longed  for  deep  draughts 
from  the  Pierian  spring  of  ancient  lore. 

The  sentiment  which  took  its  rise  in  the  East  grew 
much  more  rapidly  in  the  West.  Let  me  illustrate  by 
an  incident  in  my  own  experience:  Meeting  a  few 
months  since  a  distinguished  graduate  of  one  of  our  best 
western  universities,  he  congratulated  me  upon  my  elec- 
tion to  a  chair  in  this  institution,  and  remarked  that  I 
would  have  an  easy  time  in  my  new  position,  uFor," 
said  he,  "You  will  not  find  more  than  three  or  four  stu- 
dents in  the  University  who  will  take  Greek!"  Thanks 
to  my  learned  predecessor,  and  to  my  present  able  and 
distinguished  colleague  in  the  classical  chair,  there  may 
be  seen  to-day  on  our  catalogue  as  large  a  proportion  of 
students  in  the  departments  of  Latin  and  Greek  as  are 
found  in  most  of  the  colleges  and  universities  of  the 
country,  and  there  is  every  reason  to  hope  that  in 
another  decade  the  classical  students  of  this  university 
will  equal  both  in  enthusiasm  and  in  numbers  those  of 
any  other  institution  in  the  land. 

The  discussion  to  which  allusion  has  been  made,  has 
been  revived  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  within  the 
past  fifteen  or  twenty  years.  Defects  and  abuses  in-  the 
methods  of  instruction  were  found  to  exist  in  England 
and  Scotland,  and  at  once  the  inference  was  drawn  that 
there  was  a  similar  waste  of  time  in  the  acquisition  of 
classical  learning  among  us.  In  England  Prof.  Atkinson 
discoursed  upon  "Classical  and  Scientific  Studies;"  "Re- 
marks on  Classical  and  Utilitarian  Studies"  by  Dr.  Jacob 
Bigelow  appeared ;  a  collection  of  "Essays  on  the  Cul- 
ture Demanded  by   Modern  Life,"  edited  by   Dr.   You- 


426  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

mans  in  this  country,  and  later  "Essays  on  Liberal  Edu- 
cation," edited  by  Rev.  F.  W.  Farrar,  since  become 
famous  for  his  radical  views  on  some  theological  sub- 
jects. The  tendency  of  all  these  books  and  essays  is  to 
depreciate  the  value  of  the  study  of  Latin  and  Greek, 
and  to  dissuade  the  young  from  entering  upon  it, 
although  admitting  to  some  extent  the  advantages  to  be 
derived  from  it.  The  popular  journals  also  often  ques- 
tion and  disparage  the  usefulness  of  such  studies,  and 
create  in  the  public  mind  a  distrust  of  the  courses  so  long 
adopted  in  the  leading  colleges  and  universities  of  the 
country.  It  has  not  been  long,  since  one  of  them  con- 
tended that  "Scientific  education  will  steadily  supplant 
classical  education  during  the  present  half  century.  Step 
by  step  the  champions  of  classical  training  are  retreating 
from  their  oldest,  if  not  their  strongest  positions."  And 
another,  that  "Classical  education  has  no  apologists,  but 
is  assailed  equally  by  men  of  science  and  by  scholars." 
Or,  "The  sciences  are  of  infinitely  more  importance  to 
the  men  of  the  country  than  Greek  roots."  A  teacher 
at  one  of  our  educational  conventions  not  long  ago 
declared  that  in  his  opinion  "the  study  of  the  classics 
was  leading  us  back  to  barbarism;"  while  a  member  of 
the  School  Board  and  one  of  the  highest  teachers  in 
Massachusetts,  a  state  of  boasted  culture,  affirmed  that 
six  months  was  enough  for  the  study  of  Latin,  and  that 
three  months  was  better — less  enthusiastic,  it  is  true,  but 
hardly  less  ignorant  than  the  backwoods  preacher,  who 
declared  to  bis  city  brother,  after  an  able  disquisition  on 
the  beauties  of  the  original  Greek  of  his  text,  that  he 
meant  to  know  Greek  if  it  took  him  six  weeks  to 
learn  it! 

What  shall   we   say  then  to  such  statements  made 
with  so  much   confidence   and    self-assertion?      Readily 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    FLEET.  427 

might  thev  be  met  by  counter  statements  and  opinions 
of  the  most  eminent  scholars  known  to  fame  in  Europe 
and  America,  whose  breadth  of  culture  and  world-wide 
reputation  would  claim  for  them  at  least  a  respectful 
consideration;  but  we  would  rather  rest  our  cause  upon 
a  few  of  the  many  arguments  which  might  be  presented 
in  behalf  of  these  studies. 

In  order,  therefore,  that  we  may  fully  appreciate 
the  merits  of  the  question  under  discussion,  we  must 
learn  on  the  very  threshold  what  is  the  meaning  and 
what  the  true  end  of  all  education,  and  in  what  way  the 
tudy  of  the  classics  will  aid  the  diligent  student  in 
strengthening  those  powers  of  mind  which  wiil  qualify 
him  for  the  consideration  of  any  and  all  questions  arising 
before  him,  and  upon  which  be  may  desire  to  concen- 
trate his  thoughts,  or  exercise  a  correct  judgment. 

Even  the  meaning  of  the  word  and  the  objects  to 
be  attained  have  been  the  ground  of  controversy.  There 
are  those  who  maintain  that  all  education  should  have  as 
its  object  professional  training,  or  the  acquisition  of  such 
knowledge  as  may  be  turned  to  use  in  practical  life;  that 
if  a  young  man  is  to  be  a  physician,  his  knowledge  of 
mathematics  need  only  extend  so  far  as  to  enable  him  to 
weigh  out  his  medicines  or  cast  up  his  accounts;  of 
geography,  as  to  find  his  road  to  the  homes  of  the 
wealthiest  families;  and  that  he  need  only  read  well 
enough  to  get  through  the  long  words  in  his  anatomy 
and  physiology  without  spelling  out  more  than  half; 
while,  if  he  is  to  be  a  farmer  he  should  attend  his  Dis- 
trict School  at  least  two  or  three  days  a  week  during  the 
winter  months,  that  he  may  learn  to  read  his  county 
paper  without  much  trouble,  and  get  writing  and  arith- 
metic enough  to  figure  out  the  price  of  so  many  head  of 
cattle  at   so   much   a   pound;    or   as    the    culmination   of 


428  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

mathematical  and  business  knowledge,  to  be  able  to 
calculate  interest  compounded  every  quarter  at  I  y2  per 
cent,  a  month ! 

But  there  are  others — old-fashioned  people  perhaps, 
not  abreast  of  the  times,  who  have  the  idea  that  educa- 
tion means  something-  more  than  this;  that  it  is  the 
training-  and  developing  and  disciplining  of  all  the  pow- 
ers of  the  mind,  just  as  gymnastic  exercises  develop  and 
strengthen  all  the  muscles  of  the  body;  that  education  is 
designed  to  widen  the  mind  so  that  it  can  take  broad  and 
comprehensive,  instead  of  narrow  and  contracted  views; 
that  education  should  enable  a  man  to  take  up  any  sub- 
ject and  think  patiently  upon  it,  until  he  has  seen  every 
side  of  it  and  seen  through  it;  that  education  gives 
sound  judgment,  enables  one  to  reason  to  right  conclu- 
sions, gives  him  the  ability  to  express  his  thoughts 
tersely  and  vigorously.  Look,  for  example,  at  our  suc- 
cessful business  men.  How  broadly  comprehensive  must 
be  the  views  of  a  merchant  prince,  a  great  manufac- 
turer, an  extensive  farmer,  a  large  dealer  in  grain  or 
stock,  a  railroad  king!  He  can  look  into  a  subject  until 
he  sees  through  it  and  knows  all  about  it  that  is  worth 
knowing;  until  he  has  just  and  correct  views  of  things, 
and  can  give  such  clear  and  forcible  expression  to 
his  views  as  to  make  others  think  as  he  does. 
He  it  is  who  will  always  rise  above  his  fellows, 
wdl  control  their  labor,  will  acquire  wealth  and 
will  be  a  master  among  men.  In  many  cases  these 
men  have  gained  their  education  or  training  slowly 
and  painfully  in  the  school  of  life,  and  often  have  reached 
middle  age  before  they  have  attained  this  point.  Now, 
if  it  is  possible  for  us  to  select  certain  branches  of  knowl- 
edge and  so  to  combine  them  as  that  by  putting  our  stu- 
dent through  them    we   can   develop  all   the   faculties  of 


LKCTURE    OF     PROF.    FLEET.  429 

his  mind,  we  anticipate  the  discipline  slowly  and  pain- 
fully gained  by  contact  with  his  fellows,  and  give  the 
young  man  of  twenty-five  much  of  that  breadth  of 
thought,  soundness  of  judgment  and  accuracy  of  expres- 
sion which  in  the  school  of  life  he  could  hardly  have 
attained  before  reaching  fifty  years  of  age.  It  is  a  re- 
markable fact  that  the  real  foundations  of  wealth  of  three 
of  the  richest  men  of  our  country,  John  Jacob  Astor, 
George  Peabody  and  Cornelius  Vanderbilt,  were  not 
laid  until  they  had  passed  beyond  fifty  years  of  age.  If, 
by  some  educational  process  they  could  have  been  so 
trained  as  to  have  known  at  thirty  what  they  had  learned 
at  fifty,  what  immense  material  possibilities  would  have 
lain  before  them  in  their  long  lives! 

In  this  sense,  therefore,  education  is  not  so  much 
designed  to  impart  information  and  store  the  mind  with 
knowledge,  as  to  awaken  the  desire  and  supply  the 
power  of  acquiring  knowledge;  not  so  much  to  furnish 
special  training  for  particular  pursuits,  or  to  prepare  a 
man  for  his  future  calling,  as  to  give  general  culture  and 
fit  him  for  any  calling;  not  to  leave  him  a  slave,  con- 
fined to  one  single  path  of  securing  a  livelihood,  but  to 
make  him  a  freeman  by  elevating  him  above  the 
common  level,  and  enabling  him  from  his  commanding 
height  to  select  any  path  in  life  which  seemed  to  offer 
him  the  most  advantages;  in  short,  by  bringing  out  and 
training  all  those  powers  and  habits  of  mind  which  will 
enable  a  man  in  his  social  or  business  capacity  to  deal 
successfully  with  his  fellow-men,  and  exert  a  wholesome 
and  useful  influence  upon  all  within  his  sphere  of  action. 
To  confine  education,  therefore,  to  what  is  purely  tech- 
nical or  professional  is  to  take  a  very  narrow  view  of  the 
subject,  to  forget  that  man  has  other  duties  to  perform 
besides  those  of  his  trade  or  his  profession,  or  of  making 


430  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 

as  much  money  as  he  can  within  a  given  time.  He  has 
to  be  the  ruler  and  counsellor  in  the  home  circle  to  whom 
wife  and  children  look  up  for  advice  and  direction;  he 
has  to  meet  his  neighbors  and  friends  in  daily  inter- 
course; he  has  to  bear  his  part  in  political  and  business 
and  church  affairs;  and  his  education  is  to  fit  him  for  all 
these  religious,  social,  civil  and  political  duties  as  well  as 
for  his  profession  or  trade.  Such  an  education  cannot 
be  attained  simply  by  the  acquisition  of  knowledge.  No 
amount  of  knowledge  will  enable  him  to  grasp  all  the 
subjects  and  grapple  successfully  with  all  the  difficulties 
which  meet  him  in  ordinary  life.  Nothing,  in  fact,  but 
the  vigorous  and  healthy  action  of  all  his  faculties  will 
give  him  power  to  quit  himself  like  a  man  in  the  great 
battle  of  life.  Then,  too,  a  generous  and  thorough  cul- 
ture is  the  best  preparation  for  any  special  work,  and 
should  therefore  be  the  primary  end  to  be  aimed  at  in 
education.  For  our  American  people,  especially,  we  are 
sure,  as  had  been  said  by  a  distinguished  writer,  there 
is  something  higher  and  better  than  "to  draw  existence, 
propagate  and  rot."  We  presume  it  is  our  ambition  to 
become  a  cultivated,  literary  nation,  and  we  have  failed 
to  read  aright  the  signs  of  the  times  if  we  have  not 
observed  the  wonderful  advance  made  in  this  direction 
in  the  past  few  years.  Ours  is  no  longer  a  new  country. 
In  material  and  mechanical  advancement  we  have  gone 
far  beyond  European  nations  already  well  advanced  in 
all  the  appointments  of  civilization  and  culture  before  our 
nation's  birth;  and  that  we  may  keep  pace  with  mate- 
rial, there  must  be  rapid  and  thorough  mental  progress- 
also.  In  a  few  years,  beyond  doubt,  it  will  be  considered 
absolutely  necessary  in  order  to  satisfy  public  opinion, 
that  the  acceptable  lawyer,  physician,  editor,  teacher, 
shall   Dossess    here,  as  in  Europe,   a    carefully    acquired 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    FLEET.  431 

general  education,  as  well  as  a  thorough  training  for  his 
special  profession.  And  the  time  may  come  in  the 
Golden  Age  of  the  Republic  when  we  will  have  in  our 
American  Civil  Service,  as  Great  Britain  has  long  had 
in  hers  with  the  happiest  results,  competitive  examina- 
tions for  all  positions  of  emolument  or  honor  under  the 
appointment  of  the  government,  and  when  the  fact  of  a 
man's  knowing  something  of  the  language  and  litera- 
ture of  a  foreign  nation,  will  not  be  taken  as  prima 
facie  evidence  of  his  unfitness  for  his  appointment  to 
that  country,  because,  forsooth,  he  is  so  unfortunate  as 
to  be  one  of  "them  literary  fellows." 

Bv  the  expression  "Classical  Study"  is  meant  the 
study  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  languages  and  their  litera- 
tures. The  origin  and  meaning  of  the  word  is  derived 
from  the  political  economy  of  Rome.  In  listing  the 
Roman  citizen  for  taxation,  one  man  was  rated  accord- 
ing to  his  income  in  the  fourth  class,  another  in  the  third 
class,  and  soon;  but  he  who  was  in  the  highest  class 
wa6  said  emphatically  to  be  of  the  class,  "ciassicus" 
without  adding  the  number,  as  in  that  case  superfluous. 
Hence,  by  a  plain  analogy,  the  best  authors  were  rated 
as  "classici"  and  as  those  of  the  best  class  or  rank  were 
Greek  and  Roman  writers,  so  the  term  classics  has  been 
applied  to  the  best  literature  of  those  nations  of  an- 
tiquity. 

How  did  the  Greek  and  the  Latin  languages  gain 
the  position  they  have  held  for  nearly  twenty  centuries 
in  all  the  courses  of  liberal  education?  The  bright  and 
beautiful  Athens,  the  eye  of  Greece,  under  the  far- 
reaching  plans  of  Pisistratus,  and  nourished  by  the 
wealth  and  taste  of  Cimon  and  Pericles,  became  the 
home  of  European  literature  and  the  source  of  European 


432  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

civilization.  Athens  drew  to  her  bosom  and  then  sent 
back  again  to  the  business  of  lite  the  flower  of  European 
and  Asiatic  youth  for  a  long  thousand  years.  "Hither 
then,"  says  Cardinal  Newman,  "as  to  a  sort  of  ideal 
land,  where  all  the  archetypes  of  the  great  and  the  fair 
were  found  in  substantial  being,  and  all  departments  of 
truth  explored,  and  all  diversities  of  intellectual  power 
exhibited,  where  taste  and  philosophv  were  majestically 
enthroned  as  in  a  royal  court,  where  there  was  no 
sovereignty  but  that  of  mind,  and  no  nobility  but  that  of 
genius,  where  professors  were  rulers  and  princes  did 
homage,  hither  flocked  continually  from  the  very  cor- 
ners of  the  orbis  terrarum,  the  many-tongued  genera- 
tion, just  rising  or  just  risen  into  manhood,  in  order  to 
gain  wisdom." 

After  the  death  of  Alexander  the  Great,  the  Greek 
tongue  spread  rapidly  through  the  East,  and  became  the 
means  of  blending  Oriental  and  Western  modes  of 
thought.  Commerce  effected  a  change  of  ideas,  and 
the  Greek,  offering  a  new  philosophy  for  the  old  re- 
ligion of  the  Jews,  secured  for  Europe  the  more 
precious  gift  of  Christianity.  Christianity  had  Greek 
for  its  mother-tongue.  St.  Paul,  a  Roman  citizen, 
writes  in  Geeek  to  the  Christians  at  Rome,  and  in  tha 
same  language  were  written  the  epistle  to  the  Hebrews, 
and  that  of  St.  James  to  the  twelve  Jewish  tribes  scat- 
tered abroad.  For  nearly  300  years,  says  Milman,  the 
churches  of  the  West  were  mostly  Greek  religious  col- 
onies. The  Apostolic  Fathers,  the  apologists  and  hi^o- 
rians,  and  the  great  theologians  of  the  early  church 
wrote  and  spoke  Greek.  The  proceedings  of  the  first 
Seven  Councils  were  carried  on  in  that  tongue,  for  it 
was  hardly  possible  to  treat  the  profound er  theological 
questions  in  any   other   language.     St.  Augustine  ipuld 


LECTURE  OF  PROF.  FLEET.  433 

not  find  words  to  speak  of  them  in  Latin,  and  even  seven 
centuries  later  Anselm  undertakes  the  task  with  diffidence 
and  hesitation.  And  thus,  when  Christianity  became  the 
State  religion,  and  the  Emperor  took  part  in  the  discus- 
sions of  Nicaea,  it  was  a  last  and  signal  spiritual  triumph 
of  captive  Greece  over  capturing  Rome. 

The  ancient  church  encouraged  acquaintance  with 
heathen  literature,  and  Origen  made  a  study  of  the  poets 
and  moralists  preparatory  to  that  of  higher  Christian 
truth.  His  master,  Clement,  taught  his  disciples  that  the 
Grecian  philosophy  was  the  schoolmaster  which  led 
them,  as  the  Mosaic  law  brought  the  Jews  to  Christ; 
and  to  this  day,  along  the  porticoes  of  Eastern  churches, 
both  in  Greece  and  Russia,  are  to  be  seen  portrayed  on 
the  walls  the  figures  of  Homer,  Thucydides,  Pythagoras 
and  Plato,  as  pioneers  preparing  the  way  for  Christi- 
anity. 

As  Greek  had  been  in  the  East,  so  Latin  became 
under  the  Roman  Empire  the  medium  through  which 
literature,  science  and  wisdom  were  transferred  to  West- 
ern Europe.  In  Spain  and  Gaul,  Latin  became  the 
mother  tongue  and  the  laws  of  the  Western  Empire,  the 
last  and  greatest  product  of  the  ancient  Roman  mind, 
were  adopted  by  the  Gothic,  Lombard,  and  Carlovingian 
dynasties.  What  at  first  had  been  a  Greek,  became  in 
Western  Europe  a  Latin  religion.  A  new  Latin  version 
of  the  Septuagint  and  of  the  original  New  Testament 
superseded  the  time-honored  Greek,  and  Latin  became 
indispensable  for  church  preferment. 

In  the  Middle  Ages,  therefore,  Latin  was  made  the 
groundwork  of  education,  because  it  was  the  language 
of  the  educated  throughout  Western  Europe,  and  was 
employed  for  public  business,  literature,  philosophy  and 
science,  above  all,  by  God's  providence,  it  was  essential 


434  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

to  the  unit_v,  and  therefore  was  enforced  by  the  authority 
of  the  Western  Church.. 

This  then  brings  us  down  to  the  time  when  the 
great  European  Universities  were  founded  and  some  of 
them  were  at  the  meridian  of  their  glory,  where  the 
Greek  and  the  Latin  were  taught  because  there  was 
little  else  worthy  of  the  name  that  could  be  studied. 

And  now  let  us  consider  some  of  the  arguments 
which  may  be  adduced  in  favor  of  the  study  of  the 
classics  in  our  schools  and  colleges  and  universities. 

I.  In  the  first  place  it  greatly  aids  and  strengthens 
the  memoiy.  The  learning  of  the  declensions  of  the 
nouns,  pronouns  and  adjectives,  the  conjugations  of  the 
verbs,  the  committing  to  memory  of  the  vocabularies, 
and  phrases,  and  passages  from  famous  authors;  the  con- 
stant necessity  of  acquiring  and  retaining  the  large  mass 
of  historical,  geographical,  mythological  and  antiquarian 
knowledge  necessary  to  a  correct  understanding  and  a 
proper  appreciation  of  the  meaning  of  the  classical 
authors,  (and  without  all  these  the  training  would  be 
grossly  defective,)  all  afford  constant  practice  to  the 
memory ,  and  therefore  greatly  develop  and  strengthen 
that  faculty. 

2.  In  even  greater  degree  it  cultivates  the  judg- 
ment by  the  constant  investigation  of  the  appropriate 
meaning  of  words,  and  of  the  exact  rendering  of 
clauses  and  sentences  by  bringing  out  the  full  force  of 
each  word  and  particle;  by  determining  from  the  elas- 
ticity of  the  ancient  languages  the  exquisite  shades  of 
thought  that  can  be  expressed  by  the  simple  change  of 
the  arrangement  of  the  words  in  the  sentence;  in  the 
comparison  of  rules  and  principles  with  examples  of 
their  use,  and   of  different   passages   of  an    author  with 


LECTURE    OF     PROF.    FLEET.  435 

parallel  passages  of  the  same,  or  of  different  authors  in 
different  languages;  all  of  which  requires  discrimination 
and  decision,  the  too  essential  factors  in  the  formation  of 
a  correct  judgment. 

3.  It  educates  the  analytical  faculty  by  encourag- 
ing the  student  to  trace  words  to  their  ultimate  sources, 
to  note  carefully  the  changes  undergone  in  different 
combinations,  to  separate  compound  words  into  their 
component  elements  and  discover  the  mutual  influence 
of  the  parts,  to  dissect  sentences  and  to  put  them  togeth- 
er again — many  of  them  involved  and  complicated — 
with  clauses  whose  dependence  upon  each  other  are  not 
at  once  obvious  and  in  which  the  words,  which  in  our 
own  language  would  be  consecutive,  arc  often  widely 
separated  trom  each  other  in  the  sentence. 

4.  The  study  of  the  classics  cultivates  the  reason- 
ing powers.  "Correct  syntax  is  nothing  but  a  correct 
process  of  reasoning."  The  arrangement  of  words  and 
sentences  in  accordance  with  certain  fixed  principles 
must  correspond  with  the  reasoning  process  going  on 
within  the  mind,  and  hence  the  study  of  syntax  must  be 
a  constant  exercise  of  that  faculty.  Then,  too,  the  stu- 
dent is  constantly  engaged  in  following  out  the  connec- 
tion in  thought  between  different  clauses  and  sentences 
and  paragraphs,  all  of  which  correspond  with  the  mental 
processes  of  the  author  whose  works  he  studies.  And 
if  we  remember  too  that  in  history,  philosophy  and 
oratory,  the  classical  authors  afford  us  the  most  perfect 
specimens  of  close  reasoning  which  any  literature  has 
yet  produced,  we  will  clearly  see  how  greatly  a  close 
and  minute  attention  to  these  models  will  tend  to  develop 
and  expand  the  reason. 

5.  It  will  be  acknowledged  on  every  hand,  except 
perhaps    by   here   and   there   a   disciple    of   the   authors 


436  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

quoted  in  the  earlier  part  of  these  remarks,  that  classical 
study  give  an  inexpressible  assistance  in  the  acquisition 
of  other  languages,  and  great  precision  in  the  knowl- 
edge of  our  mother  tongue. 

Wer  fremde  Sprache  nicht  kennt, 
Weisz  nichts  von  seiner  eignen. 

"He  who  knows  no  foreign  tongue,  knows  nothing 
of  his  own,"  says  the  acknowledged  master  of  German 
literature.  What  can  give  a  better  exercise  in  discern- 
ing the  exact  force  of  words  and  phrases,  and  of  cloth- 
ing ideas  in  appropriate  dress — the  perfection  of  the 
operation  of  the  faculty  of  language — than  the  careful 
and  minute  study  of  the  complex  and  yet  perfectly  con- 
structed sentences  of  the  best  Greek  and  Latin  authors, 
and  the  daily  habit  of  analyzing  and  reconstructing 
these  into  models  of  pure  and  idiomatic  English?  And 
what  more  fully  cultivates  the  taste  than  this  method  of 
translafion  and  composition  in  which  we  have  constantly 
and  carefully  to  consider  how  the  exact  idiom  of  the 
classical  languages  may  be  elegantly  expressed  in  our 
own,  and  conversely  how  idiomatic  English  may  be 
rendered  into  Greek  or  Latin — the  task  of  deciding  how 
all  the  nice  distinctions  and  shades  of  thought  expressed 
by  the  inflections  o(  one  language  may  be  rendered 
without  loss  of  force  or  meaning  in  another — a  task  re- 
quiring the  closest  discrimination  and  the  most  refined 
taste  because  of  their  great  difference  from  our  own 
language  in  structure  and  mode  of  expression. 

6.  Nor  can  any  other  study  do  more  to  exercise 
and  cultivate  the  imagination.  The  classics  contain 
some  of  the  finest  works  of  the  imagination  which  the 
world  has  seen,  and  the  length  of  time  which,  because 
of  the  difficulty  of  the  language,  the  student  necessaaily 
spends  in  acquiring  an  accurate  conception  of  their  con- 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    FLEET.  437 

struction  and  meaning  affords  him  a  far  better  opportu- 
nity of  imbibing  and  appreciating  the  imagery  or  senti- 
ment than  if  he  had  hurried  through  them,  as  he  would 
be  apt  to  do  in  case  of  his  own,  or  of  any  modern  lan- 
guage, thus  losing  the  effect  of  the  development  which 
such  close  and  long  application  would  afford. 

There  are  many  other  arguments  besides  those  that 
have  been  adduced  which  claim  our  attention.  Among 
them,  one  which  has  been  carefully  elaborated  by  Dr. 
Whewell  in  his  work  on  "Liberal  Education:" 

The  Classics  are  an  indispensable  part  of  our  education  course 
because  the}'  connect  us  with  the  intellectual  efforts  of  past  ages; 
they  are  stamped,  as  it  were,  upon  the  history  of  the  civilized 
world,  and  their  study  preserves  the  traditions  of  moral  and  intel- 
lectual life;  and  true  nobility  of  intellect  consists  in  the  ability  to 
trace  the  descent  of  ideas.  To  omit  the  study  of  the  classics  then 
is  to  cut  us  off  from  the  experience  of  the  intellectual  world,  to 
make  it  impossible  for  us  to  investigate  the  progress  of  the 
thought  of  civilized  man,  and  to  destroy  what  may  not  inaptly  be 
called  the  aristocratic  element  of  human  knowledge. 

2.  Another  argument  is  based  upon  the  paramount 
influence  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  mind  and  character 
upon  our  civilization.  Mr.  Wm.  E.  Gladstone,  with 
whose  name  we  are  all  familiar  as  one  of  the  ablest  of  a 
noble  line  of  British  premiers,  and  whose  views  are  cer- 
tainly entitled  to  consideration,  declares  it  as  his  opinion 
that  classical  training  is  paramount,  not  simply  because 
we  find  that  it  improves  memory,  or  taste,  or  gives  pre- 
cision, or  developes  the  faculty  of  speech — "All  these," 
says  he,  "are  but  partial  and  fragmentary  statements,  so 
many  narrow  glimpses  of  a  great  and  comprehensive 
truth."  "That  truth  he  takes  to  be  that  the  modern 
European  civilization  from  the  middle  ages  downwards 
is  the  compound  of  two  great  factors,  the  Christian  re- 
ligion  for  the  spirit  of  man,  and  the   Greek  (and  in  a 


438  UNIVERSITY  OP  MISSOURI. 

lesser  degree  the  Roman,)  discipline  for  his  mind  and 
intellect.  *  *  "The  materials  of  what  we  call  classical 
training  were  prepared,  and  we  have  a  right  to  say  were 
advisedly  and  providentially  prepared,  in  order  that  it 
might  become  not  a  mere  adjunct,  but  (in  mathematical 
phrase)  the  complement  of  Christianity  in  its  applica- 
tion to  the  culture  of  the  human  being,  as  a  being 
formed  both  for  this  world  and  the  world  to  come." 

In  the  same  train  of  thought  in  his  "Considerations 
on  Representative  Government,"  Mr.  John  Stuart  Mill 
observes  that  "The  Jews  jointly  with  the  Greeks  have 
been  the  starting  point  and  main  propelling  agency  of 
modern  civilization,"  and  M.  Guizot  in  his  "Meditations 
on  Christianity"  endorses  the  same  view  and  declares 
that  "Modern  civilization  is  in  effect  derived  from  the 
Jews  and  from  the  Greeks.  To  the  latter  it  is  indebted 
for  its  human  and  intellectual,  to  the  former  for  its  divine 
and  moral  element."  The  fact  is  that  the  civilization  of 
Modern  Europe,  and  secondarily  of  our  own  country,  is 
so  interpenetrated  and  impregnated  by  classical  in- 
fluences, its  human  element  is  so  entirely  derived  from 
classical  sources,  that  its  nature  and  tendencies  cannot  be 
rightly  understood  and  duly  estimated  without  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  mental  productions,  the  civilization  and  the 
inner  life  of  ancient  Greece  and  Rome. 

3.  Another  argument  against  removing  the  class- 
ics from  their  time-honored  place  is  that  the  intellectual 
life  of  our  educated  classes  has  been  so  completely 
formed  by  them,  and  that  our  whole  literature  has  been 
so  interpenetrated  with  them,  that  it  is  impossible  for 
one  who  is  not  a  scholar,  even  with  the  aid  of  labored 
and  copious  annotations,  to  gain  a  just,  and  much  less  a 
lively  and  limpid  conception  of  thousands  of  the  finest 
passages   in   our  modern  prose  or   poetry.     If  any  one 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    FLEET.  489 

doubts  this  let  him  open  for  example  the  "Paradise 
Lost,"  and  read  a  half  dozen  pages  anywhere,  and  he 
cannot  but  confess  that  this  opinion  is  well  founded.  So 
full  and  constant  are  Milton's  allusions  to  classical  and 
oriental  literature,  and  so  reverently  and  devoutly  does 
he  imitate  those  ancient  models  in  whose  footsteps  he 
was  proud  to  tread,  and  so  perpetually  would  we  be 
obliged  to  recur  to  the  classics  that,  without  an  acquaint- 
ance with  them  we  could  never  enter  into  the  spirit  of 
the  author  or  comprehend  a  tithe  of  his  beauties — indeed 
if  we  strip  Milton  of  his  translations  and  imitations  of 
the  classics,  and  still  more  of  those  direct  and  distant  al- 
lusions to  particular  thoughts  or  expressions  of  theirs,  he 
will  be  found,  to  use  one  of  his  own  phrases,  "shorn  of 
his  beams."  So  intertwined,  therefore,  are  all  the  mod- 
ern classics  with  the  ancient  that  we  could  not  abandon 
the  study  of  the  latter  without  a  great  shock  to  our 
hereditary  system  of  thought,  and  opponents  of  the 
classics  should  certainly  show  very  good  reasons  why 
they  should  be  abandoned,  and  give  very  cogent  argu- 
ments in  favor  of  those  studies  they  propose  to  put  in 
their  stead. 

4.  Another  argument  will  be  universally  recog- 
nized, viz.,  that  a  knowledge  of  Greek  and  Latin  is 
highly  advantageous  for  young  men  preparing  for  what 
are  known  as  the  three  learned  professions,  law,  medi- 
cine and  theologv.  The  text  books  and  the  works  of 
reference  of  the  lawyer  are  full  of  Latin  expressions  left 
untranslated  !  Many  of  the  greatest  works  on  Jurispru- 
dence have  never  been  translated  from  that  tongue,  and 
the  earliest  precedents  of  his  profession  are  in  the  Latin- 
ized French  of  the  Normans,  all  of  which  must  remain 
utterly  unintelligible  without  a  knowledge  of  the  Latin 
language.     Classical  study   is  also  the  best,  if  not  an  in- 


440  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

dispensable  preparation  for  that  part  of  a  lawyer's  duty 
which  involves  the  interpretation  of  constitutions, 
statutes,  wills,  ordinances,  contracts,  and  indeed  of  legal 
documents  of  every  description.  And  then,  too,  if  the 
lawyer  aspires  to  eminence  in  his  profession,  and  even  to 
the  ability  of  practicing  in  certain  courts  of  our  country, 
and  to  a  systematic  knowledge  of  the  principles  consti- 
tuting the  science  of  Jurisprudence,  he  must  of  necessity 
be  able  to  hold  constant  communication  with  the  great 
works  of  the  civil  law,  the  Justinian  code,  that  peerless 
monument  of  juridical  wisdom,  which  he  will  find  still 
locked  up  in  the  Roman  tongue. 

So  in  the  medical  profession,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
fact  that  without  a  knowledge  of  the  classics  the  stu- 
dent cannot  avail  himself  of  the  writings  of  Hippocrates, 
Celsus,  or  Galen — the  fathers  of  the  medical  science — 
he  will  find  it  well  nigh  impossible  to  comprehend  and 
remember  the  technical  terms  used  in  his  art.  How 
simple  to  a  Greek  student,  for  example,  will  it  be  to  re- 
member that  anatomy  is  "the  doctrine  of  the  structure 
of  an  organized  substance,  learned  by  dissection,"  when 
he  recollects  that  anatcmnein  is  to  cut  up.  Or  that  physi- 
ology from  fthnsis,  nature,  and  logos,  a  discussion,  treats 
of  organs  and  their  functions.  Or  that  hypcraesthesia 
from  hufier,  over,  and  aisthanesthai,  to  feel,  means  an 
over  amount  of  sensibility ;  while  an  anaesthetic  is  some- 
thing given  to  produce  insensibility.  That  anaemia,  is 
want  of  blood,  hemorrhage  is  the  bursting  of  blood  ves- 
sels, while  malanaemia,  for  which  he  would  vainly  look 
in  Webster's  Unabridged,  any  Greek  sub-freshman  could 
tell  him  comes  from  melas,  black  and  haima,  blood, 
and  denotes  an  excess  of  venous  blood.  Or  how 
will  he  feel  when  the  learned  physican  whom  he  calls  in 
for  consultation   gravely  announces   that   "having    care- 


LECTURE    OF   PROF.    FLEET.  441 

fully  considered  the  pathology  as  well  as  the  aetiology  of 
the  disease,  he  has  arrived  at  the  solemn  conclusion  that 
the  patient  is  suffering  from  leucocy-thaemea,  superin- 
duced by  a  chronic  torpidity  of  the  chylopoietic  organs, 
and  that  he  would  advise  a  hypodermic  insertion  of  some 
ferruginous  compound!" 

And  in  the  profession  of  theology,  which  Sir  Wm. 
Hamilton  has  defined  to  be  substantially,  "applied  phi- 
lology and  criticism,"  no  one  who  has  not  received  a 
thorough  classical  training  can  reach  the  highest  stan- 
dard of  theological  attainment.  Do  they  not  know  that 
all  the  works  of  the  early  fathers  of  the  Christian  church, 
all  the  productions  of  the  Mediaeval  theologians,  and 
that  many  of  the  masterpieces  of  comparatively  mod- 
ern divines,  such  as  Turretin  and  Calvin,  are  written  in 
the  languages  of  Greece  or  Rome,  and  hence  are  sealed 
books  to  those  who  have  no  classical  culture?  When  we 
add  to  this,  that  an  accurate  acquaintance  with  the  man- 
ners, customs,  institutions  and  literatures  of  Greece  and 
Rome  is  indispensable  for  the  correct  understanding  and 
explanation  of  many  of  the  figures  and  allusions  in  the 
New  Testament  and  other  ancient  theological  writings; 
and  for  tracing  out  the  influence  of  Christianity  upon  the 
civilized  races  with  which  it  came  in  contact,  and  in  in- 
vestigating its  effect  in  reforming  and  renewing  the  ele- 
ments of  human  society,  what  shall  we  say  of  the 
nepohytes  who  madly  "rush  in  where  angels  fear  to 
tread,"  and  who  undertake  to  instruct  others  in  Chris- 
tian doctrine  when  they  are  themselves  unable  to  inter- 
pret the  original  writings  in  which  the  Sacred  Oracles 
have  been  handed  down  to  us? 

Another  argument  in  behalf  of  the  classics  is  the 
intrinsic  value  of  the  literature  of  Greece  and  Rome. 
It  may  be  truly  said  that  that  literature  contains  some  of 


442  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

the  most  inspiring  poetry,  the  most  fervid  eloquence,  the 
most  profound  philosophy,  and  the  wisest  and  most  im- 
partial history.  And  indeed  without  attempting  to  draw 
a  comparison  between  the  classical  and  modern  litera- 
tures, no  unprejudiced  person  can  decline  to  grant  that 
the  languages  in  which  Homer  and  Virgil  composed 
their  epics,  Demosthenes  and  Cicero  uttered  their  ora- 
tions, and  Thucydides  and  Tacitus  wrote  their  histories, 
are  eminently  worthy  of  diligent  study  ior  the  sake  of 
the  literary  treasures  of  which  they  arc  the  key.  To 
Greek  this  argument  applies  with  special  force.  In  it  are 
found  the  earliest  examples  of  epic,  and  dramatic  poe- 
try, and  perhaps  the  most  perfect  and  elaborate  speci- 
mens of  the  drama  which  we  possess;  in  it  were  written 
histories  not  only  the  oldest,  if  we  except  the  sacred 
ones,  which  have  been  handed  down  to  us,  but  also  un- 
surpassed if  not  unrivalled  by  any  of  the  histories  of  the 
modern  times;  it  was  the  language  of  the  greatest  ora- 
tor which  the  world  ever  produced;  in  it  wrote  the  mas- 
ters of  logic,  metaphysics,  moral  and  political  philoso- 
phy to  all  succeeding  generations;  men  unexcelled  by 
their  pupils,  with  all  the  increased  experience  of  two 
thousand  years;  in  it  were  composed  the  inspired  rec- 
ords of  Christianity — records  which  are  the  basis  of  the 
Christian  faith,  and  the  guide  of  the  individual  christian 
in  all  that  concerns  his  spiritual  and  eternal  welfare. 

For  the  American  scholar  and  statesman  also,  what 
school  can  be  found  like  the  study  of  the  Grecian  and 
the  Roman  republics  and  what  errors  may  our  country 
in  the  future  escape  by  noting  carefully  and  avoiding  the 
rocks  upon  which  the}'  were  broken  into  pieces?  To 
none  is  classical  study  more  essential  than  to  us  as  Amer- 
icans, for,  as  De  Tocqueville  has  said,  "No  literature 
places  those  fine  qualities  in  which  the  writers  of  democ- 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    FLEET.  44S 

racies  are  naturally  deficient,  in  bolder  relief,  than  that 
of  the  ancients;  no  literature  therefore  ought  to  be  more 
studied  in  democratic  times." 

Another  argument  for  maintaining  the  prominence 
of  the  ancient  languages  and  their  literatures  in  educa- 
tion, though  not  often  noticed  in  the  discussion  of  the 
question,  is  the  superiority  of  the  books  of  instruction  in 
this  department  of  knowledge  to  those  offered  as  substi- 
tutes. The  student  of  Greek,  for  example,  from  his 
first  step  onward,  "finds  himself  walking  in  paths  which 
have  been  trodden  by  acute  and  cultivated  intellects  for 
centuries.  He  is  under  their  guidance,  in  communion 
with  their  thoughts,  stimulated  in  every  step  to  exercise 
an  independent  judgment,  yet  cherished  in  every  im- 
pulse to  wild  or  hasty  reasoning  by  their  united  authority. 
The  books  with  which  he  becomes  familiar  are  not 
hastv  outlines  of  the  present  state  of  some  science,  likely 
to  be  superseded  at  any  time  as  the  science  itself  may 
undergo  a  revolution  by  some  single  discovery.  The 
great  body  of  classical  scholarship  has  continued  for  at 
least  ten  generations  to  be  the  common  heritage  of  intel- 
ligent minds,  steadily  growing  in  mass,  in  perfection  of 
form,  in  finish  of  detail,  every  change  of  new  acquisi- 
tion increasing  the  value  of  that  already  secured. 

One  serious  obstacle  to  the  successful  study  of  the 
classics  is  the  habit  of  going  over  in  the  early  part  of 
the  course  especially,  of  too  much  ground  in  a  given 
short  period  of  time.  The  preparatory  course  being 
the  first  effort  of  the  pupil  to  a  critical  study  of  lan- 
guage, any  defect  in  it  preventing  the  formation  of  right 
habits  of  study,  or  giving  a  wrong  bias  to  it,  may  be  fa- 
tal to  the  future  success  of  the  student.  Where  there  is 
so  much  to  do,  and  so  little  time  in  which  to  do  it,  there 
is  every  temptation  to  do  the  work  superficially.    In  this 


444  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

most  emphatically,  haste  makes  waste.  There  is  no 
place  here  for  mere  cramming;  but  the  student  must 
take  time  to  investigate  and  see  that  his  way  is  clear  at 
every  step,  to  reason  and  compare,  to  adjust  delicate 
questions,  to  get  well-defined  ideas  before  moving  on- 
ward. Many  a  student,  hurrying  rapidly  over  the 
ground  with  no  time  to  imbibe  the  spirit  and  beauty  of 
what  he  is  studying,  without  strengthening  his  memory, 
refining  his  taste,  quickening  his  perception  or  invigor- 
ating his  reasoning  faculties,  loses  all  interest  in  the  study 
and  confidence  in  himself,  becomes  discouraged  and  de- 
moralized, and  charges  to  the  classics  the  failure  which 
should  rather  belong  to  his  own  hasty  and  confused  and 
ill-directed  manner  of  studying  them. 

If  on  the  other  hand  he  begins  aright  by  learning 
the  symbols  of  the  language,  the  words,  with  their 
roots,  their  comparative  etymology  as  traced  through  all 
the  cognate  tongues  of  which  he  may  know  something, 
their  forms  and  all  their  changes  with  the  reasons  there- 
for; the  force  of  moods,  tenses,  and  voices;  the  ar- 
rangement of  words  and  sentences;  the  reason  for  one 
position  rather  than  another,  the  general  laws  of  agree- 
ment and  construction;  the  comparison  of  the  Latin 
with  the  Greek,  and  both  with  other  languages; — if 
then  he  goes  forward  with  higher  topics,  to  the  finished 
translation  of  the  author  he  reads,  the  study  of  syno- 
nyms, antiquities,  mythology,  the  manners  and  customs 
of  his  day,  the  prominent  subjects  of  thought  at  the 
time  of  the  writing,  and  the  peculiar  circumstances 
which  gave  coloring  to  the  writer's  views;  the  logic, 
rhetoric,  oratory  and  poetry;  the  history  and  civiliza- 
tion, the  science,  politics,  philosophy  and  religion  of 
the  times;  the  connection  between  the  past  and  the 
present — in  a  word,  all   that  a  language  contains,  every- 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    FLEET.  445 

thing  that  will  serve  to  photograph  in  his  mind  the 
strange  and  busy  scenes  of  the  past;  the  thinkers  and 
actors  in  their  surroundings,  and  to  make  him  a  con- 
scious sharer  in  the  movements  of  a  world  so  different 
from  his  own — if,  we  say,  a  student  goes  forward  semes- 
ter after  semester  in  the  investigation  of  subjects  like 
these,  treading  with  a  surer  and  firmer  step  as  he  ad- 
vances, he  will  find  himself  constantly  entering  new 
fields  of  thought  and  enquiry,  and  will  discover  each 
day  new  beauties  and  attractions  in  the  compositions  of 
the  great  masters  of  antiquity,  will  never  be  careless  or 
listless  in  the  study  so  conducted,  nor  complain  that  he 
learns  little  new  year  after  year  except  the  cold  and  dry 
rules  of  syntax. 

And  finally  what  more  shall  I  say  to  impress  you 
more  fully  with  the  importance,  nay  the  absolute  neces- 
sity of  classical  study  in  order  that  you  young  ladies  and 
gentlemen  may  reach  the  ideal  of  true  scholarship  to 
which  you  aspire?  Need  I  quote  from  Victor  Cousin, 
the  master  philosophical  mind  of  France,  when  he  says 
"that  these  studies  are  in  truth  beyond  comparison  the 
most  essential  of  them  all;  conducting,  as  they  do,  to 
the  knowledge  of  human  nature  which  they  bring  us  to 
consider  under  all  its  variety  of  aspects  and  relations;  at 
one  time  in  the  language  and  literature  of  nations  who 
have  left  behind  them  traces  of  their  existence  and 
glory;  at  another,  in  the  frequent  vicissitudes  of  history 
which  continually  renovate  and  improve  society;  and 
finally,  in  the  philosophy  which  reveals  to  us  the  simple 
elements  and  the  uniform  organization  of  that  wondrous 
being  whom  history,  literature  and  language  successfully 
clothe  in  forms  the  most  diversified,  and  yet  always 
bearing  on  some  more  or  less  important  part  of  his  in- 
ternal constitution.     Classical  studies  maintain  the  sacred 


446  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 

traditions  of  the  intellectual  and  moral  life  of  our 
species.  To  cripple,  far  more,  to  destroy  them,  would 
in  my  eyes  be  an  act  of  barbarism,  an  audacious  attempt 
to  arrest  true  civilization,  a  sort  of  high  treason  against 
humanity." 

Or  of  Sir  William  Hamilton,  the  acknowledged 
metaphysician  of  his  age,  who  declares  that  "The  study 
of  ancient  literature,  if  properly  directed,  is  absolutely 
the  best  means  for  the  harmonious  development  of  the 
faculties,  the  one  end  of  all  liberal  education." 

Or  of  Dr.  William  Smith,  the  English  antiquarian 
and  historian :  "I  hope  the  day  is  far  distant  when  the 
study  of  classical  literature  will  cease  to  be  essential  to 
the  education  of  the  English  gentleman;  and  that  what- 
ever changes,  in  this  reforming  age,  may  be  made  in 
our  universities  and  public  schools,  classical  literature 
will  stand  as  the  foundation  on  which  every  thing  else  is 
based.  For  whether  we  regard  the  language  as  a  means 
of  sharpening  the  intellectual  faculties,  or  the  literature 
as  a  means  of  elevating  and  purifying  the  taste,  it  would 
be  easy  to  show  that  no  subject  could  take  their  place  or 
accomplish  the  objects  which  they  effect." 

Or  of  Macaulay,  in  his  beautiful  apostrophe  to  the 
literature  of  Greece:  "From  that  splendid  literature 
have  sprung  all  the  strength,  the  wisdom,  the  freedom, 
and  the  glory  of  the  Western  World.  *  *  What  shall 
we  say  when  we  reflect  that  from  hence  have  sprung 
directly  or  indirectly,  all  the  noblest  creations  of  the 
human  intellect;  that  from  hence  were  the  vast  accom- 
plishments and  the  brilliant  fancy  of  Cicero,  the  wither- 
ing fire  of  Juvenal,  the  plastic  imagination  of  Dante, 
the  humor  of  Cervantes,  the  comprehension  of  Bacon, 
the  wit  of  Butler,  the  supreme  and  universal  excellence 
of  Shakspeare?     All  the  triumphs  of  truth   and  genius 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    FLEET.  447 

over  prejudice  and  power,  in  every  country  and  in  every 
age,  have  been  the  triumphs  of  Athens." 

Or  of  our  own  countryman,  Edward  Everett,  who 
says,  "There  are  other  advantages  besides  the  intrinsic 
merit  of  the  ancient  Classics  amply  sufficient  to  repay  us 
for  devoting  a  few  years  to  the  study  of  Greek  and 
Latin.  We  know  no  kind  of  labor  so  well  adapted  to 
the  general  improvement  of  the  faculties  in  early  youth." 
Orol  Professor  Moses  Stuart,  the  foremost  American 
scholar  of  his  time:  "Is  the  pursuit  of  classical  literature 
worth  the  time  expended  on  it?  From  the  deepest  and 
fullest  convictions  of  my  heart,  I  answer,  Yes.  I  would 
I  could  answer  so  loud  as  to  be  heard  in  every  part  of 
my  country.  I  have  never  yet  engaged  in  any  exercise 
which  afforded  more  salutary  discipline  than  that  of 
translating  difficult  passages  from  a  foreign  language; 
*  *  and  I  am  certain  that  few  of  my  hours  have  been 
spent  to  better  purpose  in  their  influence  over  the  habits 
of  the  mind." 

The  time  would  fail  me  if  I  attempted  to  give  the 
views  of  such  eminent  thinkers  and  educators  as  Dr. 
McCosh  of  Princeton,  Presidents  Porter  and  Elliott  of 
Yale  and  Harvard,  with  a  noble  company  of  others  ac- 
knowledged by  all  the  world  as  being  at  the  head  of 
European  and  American  scholarship,  who  with  one  ac- 
cord and  in  no  doubtful  voice  declare  in  clarion  notes,, 
that  come  what  may,  the  Classics  must  not,  shall  not  go! 


VIEWS  ON  THE  STUDY  OF  LANGUAGE. 


By  Prof.  J.  S.  Blackwell,  Professor  of  the  Se- 
mitic Languages  and  Literature  in  the  Uni- 
versity of  Missouri. 

Of  the  studies  which  challenge  the  attention  and 
call  forth  the  energies  of  the  youth  of  our  generation, 
there  is  a  present  tendency  to  a  dual  classification, — a 
classification  arbitrary,  illogical  and  unscientific.  The 
Sciences  on  the  one  hand,  (the  term  being  limited  to  the 
various  departments  of  Natural  History,  on  account  of 
the  preponderant  importance  of  its  vast  performances) 
and  the  languages  on  the  other,  find  their  respective  ad- 
vocates and  enthusiasts.  The  ulterior  purpose  of  both  is 
the  same:  to  discover  in  the  universe  of  the  knowable 
that  elusive  truth  that  moves  between  light  and  dark- 
ness, to  fix  its  orbit,  and  describe  its  path;  to  unify  the 
diverse,  and  harmonize  apparently  conflicting  forces 
whether  in  the  realm  of  nature  or  in  the  multitudinous 
manifestations  of  mental  action.  The  actual  supple- 
ments the  potential;  by  labor  in  the  one  branch  of  study 
we  increase  the  wealth  and  material  comfort,  enlarge 
the  sphere,  promote  the  longevity  and  enhance  the 
civilization  of  the  individual  man;  in  the  other,  we  take 
hold  of  man  in  his  prime  differential  faculty,  dissect  the 


450  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

body  of  reason  in  speech,  reveal  the  psychological 
unity  of  the  human  race,  catch  the  faint  murmur  of 
man's  ante-historical  lispings,  increase  our  power  of  ex- 
pression, gain  larger  combinations  for  the  laboratory  of 
the  imagination,  and  push  farther  on  the  horizon  that 
skirts  the  border  land  of  the  discoverable.  It  is  not  my 
aim  to  decry  the  one  and  unduly  to  elevate  the  other  of 
these  noble  explorers  in  their  expedition  into  the  Land 
of  Promise.  Indeed,  such  a  course  would  be  nugatory 
and  futile.  Both  studies  are  necessary  factors  in  the 
product  of  finished  education.  We  may  well  have  rea- 
son to  pronounce  that  the  time  is  not  near,  as  presaged 
by  the  able  editor  of  the  Popular  Science  Monthly, 
when  educators  will  be  compelled  to  elect  between  the 
Sciences  and  the  Languages,  as  to  which  shall  occupy  a 
paramount  place  in  the  schools.  The  statement  is  an 
outgrowth  of  that  intense  utilitarian  frenzy  which  is 
now  prevalent  throughout  the  world.  A  thing  to  com- 
mend itself  to  the  mind  of  this  age  must  evidence  to  a 
complete  demonstration  some  practical  results.  We 
cease  to  take  delight  in  unsubstantial  abstractions  and  to 
risk  our  lives  in  the  support  of  inane  and  issueless  spec- 
ulation. Realism  and  Nominalism  wage  no  more  wars. 
The  problem  of  education  belongs  to  the  people,  and 
they  will  solve  it  to  productive  results.  But  in  their  in- 
tense love  of  the  practical,  they  cannot  lose  sight  of  the 
genuine  elements  which  constitute  practicalness.  Prac- 
tical education  does  not  altogether  consist  in  the  ability 
to  guide  a  plow  along  a  furrow,  to  wield  a  hoe,  brandish 
an  axe,  carve  with  tools,  or  in  being  merely  skillful  in 
the  mechanical  arts.  Dexterity  in  these  is  compatible 
with  a  great  amount  of  stupidity  and  ignorance.  Clearly, 
practical  education  cannot  leave  out  of  view  the  discip- 
lining  of  the   mental  faculties,  the   acquisition   of  useful 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    BLACKWELL.  451 

knowledge  and  of  the  power  of  expression.  Practical- 
ness connotes  a  condition  of  mental  improvement,  such 
that  the  individual  shall  be  able  to  recognize  the  aims 
and  the  objects  of  action,  and  to  apply  the  proper  aids  in 
all  circumstances  that  may  arise,  with  promptness  and 
energy.  It  demands  the  possession  of  ideas,  and  a  rea- 
sonable amount  of  knoweldge. 

Now,  knowledge  can  be  acquired  in  but  one  defi- 
nite and  precise  way,  and  that  is,  by  language.  No  one 
will  contend  that  the  vocabulary  acquired  at  the  mother's 
knee,  will  subserve  the  highest  ends  of  lite,  nor  that  the 
paucity  of  ideas  struggling  through  into  a  mind  wholly 
occupied  with  the  labor  of  learning  to  read  and  write  in 
common-school  education,  will  full  up  the  blank.  That 
a  student  may  appropriate  and  assimilate  ideas,  he  must 
have  a  full  consciousness  of  the  language  expressing 
those  ideas,  and  to  understand  language,  he  must  study 
the  body  of  Language  itself.  To  study  the  body  of 
Language  he  must  have  recourse  to  its  original  sources. 
Hence,  the  English  student  is  driven  in  spite  of  all  pre- 
conceptions to  the  study  of  the  Latin  tongue,  without 
which  our  language  and  our  literature  would  bean  enig- 
ma at  which  the  fabled  sphynx  would  have  guessed  in 
vain.  It  is  by  persistent  study  of  language  that  we 
reach  the  thought  which  has  its  living  exponent  in  the 
word.  Language  is  not  the  vesture  of  thought,  not  a 
magic  armor  that  flexibly  fits  the  thought,  whether  small 
or  great,  nor  is  it  thought's  correlative;  it  is  thought 
itself  symbolized  in  sound.  Thought  and  language  are 
only  logically  separable.  He  who  cannot  speak,  whether 
in  words,  or  in  the  dumb  show  of  finger  language,  can- 
not think.  "To  think  is  to  speak  low,  to  speak  is  to 
think  aloud."  Children  who  speak  are  not  conscious  of 
the  syllables  they  utter.     They  are  like  pigmies  parad- 


452  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

ing  in  a  giant's  garments;  like  puny  riders  seizing  the 
ocean's  mane.  Now,  if  a  proper  understanding  be  the 
first  element  of  progress  in  education,  (and  who  can  deny 
it?)  we  must  make  our  starting-point  in  seeking  to  ac- 
quire the  significance  of  words.  To  do  this  nothing  is  so 
convenient  as  translation,  and  nothing  so  essential  as 
translation  from  the  originals  of  our  English  speech*  We 
thus  become  familiar  with  the  inmost  intent  of  the  words 
which  we  employ,  rise  to  a  consciousness  of  the  powers 
with  which  we  are  dealing,  grow  as  giants  to  fill  a 
giant's  garments  and  toy  with  the  mane  of  steed  that  its 
rider  knows. 

The  proper  use  of  language  and  the  ability  to  em- 
ploy it  effectively  are  the  qualities  which  constitute  emi- 
nence, not  only  in  the  lawyer,  the  orator,  the  statesman, 
the  poet,  the  rhetorician,  the  teacher,  the  clergyman,  but 
also  the  successful  business  man.  The  man  who  cannot 
talk  if  he  will,  cannot  think  if  he  will.  Poverty  of  lan- 
guage means  poverty  of  thought.  No  one  ever  yet 
really  knew  anything  that  he  could  not  tell.  He  may 
utter  it  in  hesitating,  stammering  speech,  or  he  may 
phrase  it  in  the  easy  precise  and  thunderous  eloquence  of 
a  Burke.  The  difference  in  the  language  arises  from  a 
difference  in  the  amplitude  of  thought,  and  practicalness 
of  education — the  one's  thought  being  the  faint,  blurred 
caricature  of  an  awkward  and  untutored  mind,  the 
other's,  the  living,  breathing  picture  sketched  by  a  deft 
and  skillful  brain.  An  ignorant  man  may  have  seen 
the  greatest  wonders  of  the  world,  its  towering  mountain 
chains  and  snow-clad  peaks,  its  golden  sunsets,  its  rolling 
oceans  heaving  in  tremendous  billows,  its  works  of  art, 
glorious  in  beauty,  its  heaped-up  treasures,  and  its  gor- 
geous palaces,  and  be  able  to  say  in  description  of  it  all, 
that   it  was  all  "mighty  fine."     The   hero   in    Southev's 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    BLACKWELL.  453 

poem  of  the  Battle  of  Blenheim,  the  old  man  who  had 
met  the  foe  in  the  shock  of  conflict,  could  say  naught 
else  of  the  signal  triumph  than  that  "it  was  a  glorious 
victory;"  much  as  Jefferson  Jones  wrote  the  history  of 
our  late  war  in  the  concise  manner  peculiar  to  men  with 
remarkable  inaptitude  for  thought  and  speech  in  the 
nervous  declaration  that  "it  was  a  powerful  skeery  time." 
The  great  Schopenhauer  stands  sponsor  to  the 
thought  "  that  he  who  does  not  know  foreign  tongues 
walks  through  this  world  in  a  fog."  It  is  not  meant 
that  the  knowledge  of  languages,  as  children  learn 
them,  necessarily  implies  consequent  mental  develop- 
ment. Mental  culture  does  not  necessarily  come  with 
speaking  many  languages.  Many  a  druggists'  clerk, 
and  many  a  bar-tender,  has  a  facile  tongue  in  four  or 
five  languages,  and  yet  has  never  heard  of  "  parts  of 
speech"  and  "grammatical  accidence."  Language  learnt 
without  effort,  without  reflection,  without  self-conscious- 
ness, make  quite  a  different  accomplishment  from  lan- 
guage learnt  by  the  slow  process  of  grammatical  and 
lexical  training  in  which  the  critical  powers,  the  faculty 
of  discrimination,  of  taste,  and  of  judgment,  the  highest 
powers  of  the  human  mind,  are  evoked  and  enlisted 
from  the  start.  And  herein  lies  an  insurmountable  ob- 
jection to  the  so-called  "  Natural  Method  "  of  instruction 
in  languages  which  claims  to  have  hewn  out  and  paved 
a  royal  road  to  learning  and  to  reach  the  longed-for  goal 
with  lightning  speed.  The  memorizing  of  long  strings 
of  words  and  expressions  is  a  very  different  thing  from 
the  exercise  of  reason.  A  student  in  the  primary  de- 
partment of  our  academies  could  take  a  position  above  a 
Grecian  sage  in  certain  memorized  points  of  to-day's  fa- 
miliar knowledge,  but  would  not  have  a  millionth  part 
of  the   mental    power   that    burned  in    the  brain   of  an 


454  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

Aristotle.  The  one's  facts  are  mere  matters  of  memory, 
mere  word-labels  ticketed  with  sounds  unrealized  in 
consciousness;  the  other's  trained  intelligence  could  pour 
a  steady  ray  upon  the  most  recondite  and  baffling  ques- 
tions, peer  with  Jove-like  prescience  into  the  probabil- 
ities of  the  future  and  adumbrate  their  history ;  the  one's 
short  steps  cannot  compass  a  manly  gait,  the  other  be- 
strides the  world  of  thought  like  a  huge  Colossus. 

The  apprenticeship  to  knowledge  in  any  depart- 
ment is  slow  and  painful,  even  when  ambition  fires  the 
youthful  soul,  and  the  midnight  lamp  glares  upon  the 
studious  page.  If  the  student  would  handle  his  mind, 
and  turn  it  about  to  his  purposes  with  rapidity,  direct- 
ness and  effectiveness,  he  must  resolutely  scourge  him- 
self to  his  task  and  carve  again  at  the  granite  block  of 
unwilling  destiny.  In  a  word  he  must  submit  to  the 
routine  which  educators  have  wisely  established.  If  ed- 
ucators yield  to  popular  clamor,  and  remodel  the  time- 
honored  course  of  study  in  obedience  to  inexperience 
and  thoughtlessness,  we  shall  soon  find  that  the  so-called 
"practically"  educated  have  little,  if  any  education  at  all, 
and  are  turned  out  of  college  upon  society  in  that  vealy 
stage  of  semi-ignorance  which  prompts  to  butt  at  im- 
possibilities and  to  toss  gorgeous  nothings  en  its  sprout- 
ing horns.  The  dangers  of  half-knowledge  are  many 
and  insidious.  It  opens  the  mind  to  depressing  doubts, 
groundless  fears,  and  gloomy  superstitions.  It  has 
deluged  the  world  in  blood  and  raised  man}'  a  pyramid 
of  ghastly  skulls.  It  has  laid  its  spectral  hand  upon  the 
sacred  altar  oi  religion.  It  has  blasted  the  unit}"  of  faith, 
and  filled  the  world  with  the  fragments  of  broken 
creeds.  It  scowls  in  dark  suspicion,  gloats  on  revenge, 
and  riots  with  the  ghouls  of  crime  and  death.  It  hurls 
its  portents  into  the   councils  of  knowledge,  and  befouls 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    BLACKWELL.  455 

the  feast  of  reason  with  its  harpy  fingers.  It  forebodes 
disaster,  croaks  defeat,  and  raises  from  the  sea  of  every 
adventure  a  shadowy  giant  hand. 

We  may  be  very  sure  that  the  prevalence  among 
educators  of  such  convictions  as  1  have  outlined  will  in 
the  future  as  in  the  past  bring  multitudes  of  souls  fam- 
ishing for  knowledge  to  slake  their  thirst  at  the  open 
fountains  of  ancient  lore. 

But  there  is  a  large  body  of  old  literature  which 
merits  attention  and  investigation  on  many  grounds. 
From  a  literary  point  of  view  the  claims  of  the  Semitic 
languages  are  not  to  be  lightly  esteemed.  Many  of 
their  performances  are  equal  if  not  superior  to  the 
sublimest  compositions  of  Greece  and  Rome — at  least,  in 
the  treatment  of  the  productions  of  feeling  and  of  fact. 
The  Semitic  peoples  were  inferior  to  their  western  con- 
temporaries in  point  of  versatility  of  genius.  To  the 
former,  the  plastic  arts,  except  in  their  grosser  material- 
istic elements,  were  unknown.  The  canvas  of  Apelles 
and  the  superb  creations  of  Phidias  would  have  awak- 
ened in  the  stern  and  sedate  Semite  only  the  affections 
of  abhorrence  and  contempt.  That  abhorrence,  unborn 
and  frenzied,  was  realized  in  action  whenever  and 
wherever,  under  the  proclamation  of  Islam,  a  Semitic 
hand  could  shiver  with  a  battle-axe,  or  a  Semitic  scime- 
ter  efface  and  destroy.  The  kindred  art  of  poetry,  the 
realization  of  the  exquisite  creations  of  the  soul,  could 
rouse  the  sober  enthusiasm  of  this  grave  and  majestic 
people.  No  Grecian  lyre  could  sound  the  strings  to 
softer  raptures  than  could  the  tuneful  harp  of  the  son  of 
Jesse.  No  tenderer  ditties  could  swell  the  lover's  heart 
with  fond  desire  than  were  intoned  by  the  dusky 
Anacreons  and  the  rhythmic  Horaces  of  the  pre-islamic 
deserts.     No  pastoral   redolent    with  dewy    thyme    and 


456  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

grassy  Italian  meadows  could  recall  fonder  glories  of 
earth  and  sky  and  mountain  than  the  rural  strains  of  the 
rose  of  Sharon  and  the  lily  of  the  valley.  No  more 
awful  grandeur,  no  more  terrible  symbols  of  obscurity 
and  darkness,  vastness  and  solitude,  wrath  and  power, 
startle  from  the  page  of  Aeschylus  than  mutter  in  the 
sombre  imagery  of  Job,  and  flash  in  lurid  lightnings 
from  the  solemn  gloom  of  Isaiah.  There  is  no  Semitic 
Homer.  Among  a  people  always  incapable  of  compact 
military  organization,  the  "delight  of  the  warrior" 
found  no  responsive  echo.  But  the  songs  of  Miriam 
and  Deborah,  with  their  noble  martial  air,  and  even  the 
petty  campaigns  of  Saul  and  David  chanted  in  the 
proud  extravagance  of  the  Israelitish  maidens  who  came 
forth  to  meet  them  with  tabret  and  with  harp,  have  the 
true  heroic  ring.  Extended  composition  such  as  is  re- 
quired in  epic  poetry  with  its  relentless  unities  was  im- 
possible to  the  Semite,  so  long  as  the  verse  with  its  sen- 
tentious paragraphs  was  de  rigeur  in  every  kind  of  lit- 
erature. The  dread  tyranny  of  the  verse  rules  from  the 
Pentateuch  to  the  Koran,  nay,  until  the  conquests  of 
Islam  brought  the  Muslim  in  contact  with  Grecian  civi- 
lization and  Grecian  culture.  It  was  then  among  the 
scholars  of  Edessa  and  Baghdad,  of  Egypt  and  Cordova 
that  the  subtle  abstractions  of  Plato  and  the  dialectics  of 
Aristotle  won  the  conquerors  of  the  world  to  metaphys- 
ical research.  The  Semitic  mind,  simple  and  pure, 
knew  nothing  of  the  drama,  of  wit  and  humor,  of 
grammar,  mathematics,  physics,  technology,  medicine, 
bibliography  and  scholastic  theology.  Herodotus  has 
been  called  the  father  of  history.  But  long  before  the 
simple  tale  of  the  Halicarnassian  challenged  the  ap- 
plause of  the  assembled  athletes  of  the  Panhellenic 
world,  one  learned  in   all  the   wisdom  of  the  Egyptians 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    BLACKWELL.  457 

had  penned  the  scroll  of  inspiration.  The  story  of 
plain  facts  is  plainly  told,  "simple  in  its  neatness,"  direct 
in  its  truth,  ungarnished  by  any  art,  single  in  its  purpose, 
comprehensive  in  its  humanity,  and  pathetic  in  its  epi- 
sodes. It  has  been  the  singular  fortune  of  the  Hebrew 
literature  to  be  the  prose  and  the  poetry  of  mankind. 
Thousands  who  have  known  and  know  no  other  litera- 
ture have  lived  and  are  living  in  the  world,  and  some  of 
them,  like  Bunyan,  have  made  their  ineffaceable  marks 
upon  the  ages.  The  hills  and  the  valleys  of  Palestine, 
its  brooks  and  its  seas,  its  mountains  and  groves,  its  cities 
and  towns  are  familiar  spots  to  the  readers  of  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty-five  languages.  Its  idioms  and  its  meta- 
phors, its  parables  and  its  allegories,  its  word-plays  and 
its  poetic  parallelisms   are  the  common  literary  heritage 

of  our  common  humanitv. 

j 

A  discussion  of  the  respective  literary  claims  of  dif- 
ferent nations  naturally  calls  attention  to  the  languages  in 
which  Hiey  are  written.  The  ancient  languages  differ 
in  many  characteristics  from  the  modern.  To  two  char- 
acteristics, the  synthetical  and  the  concrete,  I  would  now 
briefly  direct  remark.  The  early  mind  of  the  world  is 
everywhere  unanalytical.  It  seizes  the  salient  points  of 
things  and  leaves  the  hearer  of  its  utterances  to  fill  out 
the  picture  the.  outline  of  which  only  is  sketched. 
Hence,  synecdoche  plays  a  large  role  in  the  scene  of 
verbal  and  nominal  origination.  The  agglomeration  of 
many  elements  into  a  confused  whole,  the  subordination 
of  accessor}'-  notions  to  some  arbitrarily  assumed  princi- 
pal idea,  the  lumping  of  accidentally  related  conceptions 
into  one  heterogeneous  mass  under  some  one  vocable 
furnishes  a  striking  exemplification  of  the  illogical  char- 
acteristics of  early  tongues.  The  Latin  regat  may 
mean  let  him  rtcle;  the  Hebrew  tomlak,  thou  wilt  cause 


458  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 

to  rule.  The  literary  Arabic  partakes  in  some  degree 
the  strange  indefiniteness  of  the  Chinese,  and  the  long 
definitions  often  irrelated  and  directly  opposite,  attached 
to  its  roots  in  the  Arabic  lexicon  are  sufficient  to  be- 
wilder the  most  laborious  and  experienced  student.  In 
that  tongue  the  synecdoche  attains  almost  infinite  possi- 
bilities. An  Arabic  lexicographer  claims  to  have  found 
in  his  language  12,305,412  words  and  more  than  10,000 
roots.  He  gives  ^00  names  for  lion,  and  200  for  serpent. 
Firuzabadi,  the  author  of  the  Kamus,  counted  more  than 
eighty  words  for  honey,  and  then  relinguished  the  task. 
He  claims  also  a  thousand  words  for  sivord  and  400  for 
misfortune.  Von  Hammer  in  his  monograph  on  the 
Camel,  catalogues,  one  after  the  other,  544  words  descrip- 
tive of  the  "Ship  of  the  Desert."  "Such  facts,"  says 
Renan,  "cease  to  appear  extraordinary  when  we  con- 
sider that  these  synonymes  are  most  frequently  but  epi- 
thets substantivized,  or  tropes  employed  accidentally  by 
a  poet."  The  advantages  accruing  to  style  from  this 
lexicographical  wealth,  are  conciseness,  elegance  of  dic- 
tion, limitless  poetical  freedom,  musical  and  harmonious 
arrangement.  The  disadvantages  are  mental  obfusca- 
tion,  mutual  misapprehension,  limitless  possibilities  of 
error,  mysticism  and  self-deception.  When  an  Arab 
writes  a  letter,  if  in  the  literary  dialect,  after  which  all 
strive,  he  often  sends  along  a  messenger  to  read  it.  The 
comfort  of  the  Arabic  student  is  that  the  Arabs  are  often 
puzzled  more  than  we,  with  our  methodical  habits  of 
study,  over  the  mysteries  of  much  of  their  literature. 
The  analytical  languages  are  the  product  of  modern 
times  which  will  not  be  baffled  in  its  resolute  purpose  of 
perspicuous  expression.  The  language  fitted  for  obscu- 
rity, for  subterfuge,  for  equivocation,  for  treacheiw,  for 
cowardice  and  slavery,  as  well  as  for  noble  thoughts  and 


IiKCTURE    OF    PROF.    BLACKWELL.  459 

glowing  eloquence  was  a  source  of  disquiet  to  the  deli- 
cate linguistic  consciousness  of  many  an  ancient  Roman. 
The  Emperor  Augustus,  says  Suetonius,  began  the 
practice  of  using  prepositions  to  mark  relations  clearly 
and  precisely — a  practice  which  the  analytical  mind  of 
the  19th  century  sees  carried  to  its  fullest  extension  in 
the  neo-latin  dialects.  The  notion  that  every  concept 
should  have  a  separate  word  indicative  of  all  its  relations, 
possible  and  conceivable,  has  given,  in  its  approximate 
realization,  an  immense  impetus  to  psychological, 
linguistic  and  critical  research.  Now  the  Semetic  tongues 
contain  the  elements  of  both  the  synthetical  and  the 
analytical  stage.  They  have  been  petrified,  so  to  speak, 
on  the  border-land  of  each.  They  have  a  fitness,  as  in 
Hebrew,  iui  generis,  to  excel  in  the  loftiest  flights  of 
the  imagination  and  to  collect  the  awfulest  images  of 
terror  and  of  grandeur,  and ,  as  in  the  Arabic,  which  is 
substantially  the  same  tongue,  to  give  out  of  its  im- 
mense verbosity  the  clearest  expression  to  mathematical, 
logical  and  critical  truth.  The  stream  of  Semitic 
speech,  in  its  substance,  is  pellucid  to  the  bottom,  but  the 
spirit  which  plays  with  its  current  and  ripples  its  sur- 
face, is  fugitive  and  evanescent.  The  triliterality  of  its 
roots,  their  consonantal  idiosyncrasy,  their  stony  immu- 
tability, their  internal  vowel  modifications  are  the  most 
patent  peculiarities  of  the  family.  Other  languages 
grow  old,  and  present  the  aspects  of  corruption  and  de- 
cay; the  English  of  Alfred  the  Great  we  painfully  ex- 
plore with  grammar  and  dictionary,  but  the  student  of 
the  Pentateuch  finds  the  same  words,  the  same  phraseo- 
logical and  syntactical  turns  in  the  prophets  separated 
from  it  by  a  milliad  of  years.  The  literary  Arabic  of 
to-day  uses  the  same  vocabulary  with  the  earliest  frag- 
ments of  the  fifth   century   and  with  the  surahs   of  the 


460  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

prophet  of  Medina.  The  Israelite  of  three  thousand 
years  ago  fresh  from  the  Egyptian  house  of  bondage 
might  rise  to-day  and  hold  intelligible  domestic  converse 
with  the  swarthy  fellah  of  the  Nile.  How  wonderful, 
how  persistent,  how  equable  the  vitality  which  electri- 
fies through  the  chain  of  ages,  from  the  farthest  discov- 
erable link  in  "the  dark  backward  and  abysm  of  time," 
lightens  in  the  sublimities  of  Job,  plays  in  Solomon's 
song,  and  equally  flings  above  the  antediluvian  horizon 
the  phosphorescent  flashes  of  the  poetic  ?naschal  of 
Lamech! 

The  phenomenon  oi  analytical  minuteness  in  the 
childhood  of  man,  and  of  the  crystallization  of  inorganic 
linguistic  elements  in  the  minds  and  mouths  of  all  the 
children  is  a  fact  and  a  wonder  worthy  of  the  attention 
of  those  scholars  who  would  limit  the  marvels  and  inter- 
pret the  wonders  of  language  from  the  narrow  field  of 
Aryan  philology,  in  its  laittverschiebungen,  its  phonetic 
corruption,  and  its  dialectical  regeneration.  Where  else 
has  the  empire  of  decay  not  left  the  blight  of  its  desola- 
ting breath?  Where  is  that  other  immutable  tongue  fit 
for  the  inspiration  of  an  immutable  God?  Why  should 
we  seek  for  other  causes  of  the  tenacity  of  the  Semitic 
mind  of  its  ancient  faith  and  its  ancient  ceremonies. 

Again,  the  concrete  character  of  the  ancient  mind 
must  have  struck  every  student  of  the  classics.  The 
mind  of  man  in  his  early  communion  with  nature  was 
impressed  with  things  rather  than  qualities.  Thrown 
into  a  world  new  and  strange,  the  aspect  of  the  starry 
heavens,  the  "rounded  red  sun  sinking  to  rest  upon  his 
golden  car,"  the  swift  wrath  of  the  lightning,  the  sud- 
den boom  of  the  darkening  clouds,  the  hoarse  music  of 
the  storm-god, 

'■When  the  Wind,  that  grand  old  harper,  smote 
His  thunder-harp  of  pines." 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    BLACKWELL.  461 

The  vast  extent  of  the  ocean,  the  solemn  stillness  of 
the  pathless  woods,  the  green  billows  of  grassy  fields, 
the  sweet  incense  of  flowers  waving  their  censers  to 
the  morning  sun,  the  glitter  of  arms,  and  the  pomp  of 
ambitious  warriors  fencing  in  a  world  with  swords,  at- 
tract the  thought  and  engage  the  mind  of  the  primeval 
man.  The  stern  necessities  of  life  leave  no  leisure  for 
that  calm  and  sedate  stage  which  conduces  to  reflection 
and  philosophical  introspection.  If  we  examine  the 
body  of  ancient  speech  we  shall  perceive  that  the  thing 
is  prior  in  importance  to  the  quality,  the  substance  to  its. 
attributes,  the  noun  stands  before  the  adjective.  The 
outside  world  is  the  aim  and  the  object  of  existence. 
The  modern  generalizes;  the  ancient  specializes  ;(*)  the 
modern  is  philosophical;  the  ancient  is  picturesque.  We 
should  say,  "The  world  hates  ingratitude;"  the  Latin 
would  say,  '•'•onines  immemorem  bcnejicii  oderunt" — 
"all  men  hate  the  man  unmindful  of  a  favor;"  we 
should  say  strength,  the  Latin  sanguis  (blood);  we, 
vigor;  the  Latin  lacerti  (arms);  we,  sentiment,  the 
Latin  vox  (voice);  we  should  say,  "He  utterly  defeated 
them;"  the  Hebrew  uvavyakh  otham  shokh  al-yarekh^ 
— "and  he  struck  them  leg  upon  thigh ;"  we,  "Saul 
reigned  a  year;"  the  Hebrew  '•'•Ben  shanah  Shaul 
tfmalkho'1'1 — "Son  of  a  year  Saul  in  his  kingdom."  I 
mention  these  brief  particulars  and  peculiarities  to  call 
attention  to  the  necessity  of  the  study  of  ancient  lan- 
guages in  order  to  a  full  appreciation  of  the  history  of 
mental  evolution  and  to  the  grave  importance  which 
attaches  to  the  subject  of  a  proper  interpretation  of  the 
oracles  of  truth,  and  their  proper  presentation  in  the 
colorless   and    less    graphic    phraseology    of  the    present 

(*)     See  Farrar,  Chapters  on  Language,  page  199. 


462  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

day.  Herein  we  have  an  interesting  field  for  philosoph- 
ical research,  and  one  that  loudly  calls  for  the  scholarly 
energies  of  our  times.  A  literal  version  of  any  tongue 
loses  much  of  the  force  and  much  of  the  sense  of  the 
original.  The  form  of  the  thought  may  be  depictured, 
but  its  strength  and  vitality  are  gone.  The  wine  may 
be  there,  but  its  delicate  bouquet  has  exhaled.  How 
tamely  does  Goethe  sound  in  a  literal  dress;  and  often 
how  incomprehensible!  and  yet  Goethe  shares  the 
thoughts  and  the  sympathies  of  modern  times.  Where 
is  the  rotundity  of  the  Ciceronian  period,  where  the 
concrete  impetuosity  of  Demosthenes  furious  against 
Aeschines  in  the  verbatim  translations  of  undergraduate 
verbal  and  expressional  poverty?  Where  are  the  wit  and 
the  satire  of  Horace  to  the  average  reader?  Indeed, 
many  a  young  student  has  wondered  unavailingly  why 
the  ancient  classics  have  set  the  scholarly  world  in  an 
uproar  for  ages,  and  been  held  as  the  model  for  imita- 
tion for  poets  and  essayists  in  all  refined  and  cultivated 
lands. 

The  idioms  of  ancient  speech  are  often  difficult  of 
determination.  It  is  only  latterly  that  the  phraseology 
of  the  Vaidik  poets  has  yielded  a  possible  motive  under 
the  patient  investigation  of  the  comparative  mythologist. 
It  may  be  safely  said  that  the  Bible  is  the  mosi  literally 
translated  of  all  books,  and  of  all  books  it  and  the  Koran 
lose  most,  inasmuch  as  they  are  furthest  removed  from 
occidental  thought,  method,  and  contemplation.  In 
transporting  himself  from  the  realm  of  Aryan  philology 
to  the  world  of  Semitic  speech,  a  world  unheard-of,  un- 
expected and  bizarre,  the  student  will  find  ample  room 
for  investigation  to  original  results,  ample  opportunities 
and  great  encouragement  in   a  field  not    fully    occupied. 

But  there  are  other  reasons  why  the  scholarship  of 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    BLACKWELL.        .  463 

our  land  should  spend  some  of  its  energies  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Semitic  research.  There  arc  greater  interests 
for  our  youth  than  the  oft-told  story  of  the  wrath  of 
Achilles,  the  strifes  of  the  Grecian  and  Trojan  heroes, 
the  harangues  of  Nestor  at  the  ships,  and  the  wiles  and 
woes  of  the  crafty  Ulysses.  The  most  singular  spec- 
tacle in  the  history  of  literature  is  the  ceaseless  song  ot 
the  blind  bard  of  Greece  giving  the  key-note  to  the 
strains  of  every  age.  Shall  we  be  employed  forever  in 
hearing  of  the  battles  and  of  the  men  who  wore  away 
ten  years  around  a  city  whose  very  existence  has  been 
questioned,  and  whose  story  has  been  called  a  mass  of 
myths?  Let  us  turn  awhile  from  the  combats  of  the 
gods  of  fable  to  the  contemplation  of  Jehovah,  and  in 
His  solemn  attributes  and  eternal  perfections,  forget  the 
petty  abominations  of  Olympus. 

The  Semitic  mind  has  given  to  humanity  the  sub- 
lime doctrine  of  monotheism,  uncovered  the  dark  Here- 
after, and  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light.  Under 
its  serene  ray  anthropomorphism  has  vanished  in  a  sub- 
lime amorphism — ancestral  and  hero  worship  in  the  pure 
cult  of  the  only  living  and  true  God.  The  uncompro- 
mising dogma,  aLa  ilaha  ilia  ''l-lahu"  (there  is  no  God 
but  God),  SJi'ma,  Yisrael,  1'ehovah  elohenu,  Teho- 
vah  ehadh,  (Hear,  oh  Israel,  the  Lord  our  God  is  one 
Lord),  the  central  point  of  all  Semitic  thought  and  feel- 
ing is  of  more  practical  importance  to  mankind  than  all 
the  dialogues  of  the  Socratic  school  and  all  the  specula- 
tions of  the  loungers  of  the  agora.  The  thoughtful 
world  has  blessed  this  iconoclastic  truth.  Shall  we  be 
idle  spectators  of  this  great  revolution  of  human  opin- 
ions? Shall  we  have  no  personal  active  sympathy  in 
the  history  of  man's  religious  enfranchisement?  Shall 
we  not  rather  pore  upon  the  words  that  Moses  syllabled, 


464:  .  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

the  prophets  thundered,  and  that  thrilled  to  the  sweep- 
ings of  David's  harp?  These  reflections  come  with  es- 
pecial emphasis  to  the  student  of  biblical  literature,  yet 
they  have  not  wrought  an  adequate  effect  in  stimulation 
to  continued  endeavor  in  his  proper  line  of  research. 

The  study  of  Hebrew  as  a  means  of  broad  culture 
recommends  itself  alike  to  minister  and  layman,  but  to 
the  minister  it  is  imperative  as  a  necessary  part  of  his 
theological  equipment.  How  could  a  man  deliver  lec- 
tures on  Schiller  without  a  knowledge  of  German? 
What  would  Gladstone's  Homeric  studies  profit  the 
reading  public,  if  he  were  not  a  most  accomplished  Gre- 
cian, and  were  driven  for  his  materials  to  the  translations 
of  Pope,  Cowper,  Derby,  and  Bryant?  It  is  not  denied 
that  many  great  and  good  men  have  bettered  the  world 
and  given  glory  to  the  pulpit,  who  could  not  have  named 
correctly  the  Hebrew  alphabet.  But  the  chief  function 
of  the  minister  is  to  teach,  and  in  order  to  teach  he  must 
know.  Knowledge  here,  as  everywhere,  is  power. 
This  is  so  clearly  recognized  in  regard  to  Hebrew,  that 
there  is  no  Theological  Seminary  worthy  of  the  name 
but  insists  strongly  upon  the  study.  Princeton,  the  cat- 
alogue of  which  alone  I  have  examined,  devotes  three 
years  to  the  work,  and  gives  optional  instruction  in 
Chaldec,  Syriac,  and  Arabic.  The  time  is  not  far  dis- 
tant when  Hebrew  education  will  be  demanded  of  our 
ministry,  in  general,  and  when  facility  in  theological 
dogmas  and  ecclesiastical  history  will  not  suffice.  It 
may  be  emphatically  said  that  no  man  can  expound  with 
authority  unless  in  christian  humility,  laborious  conscien- 
tiousness, and  a  profoundly  pious  and  reverential  mind 
he  has  explored  the  depths  of  Hebrew  and  Syriac  lite- 
rature. No  man  can  seize  in  its  entirety  the  thought  of 
the  writers  of  the  New  Testament,  and   cognize  it  in  all 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    BLACKWELL.  465 

its  relations  unless  he  has  a  feeling  consciousness  of 
Syriac  thought  and  Syriac  language.  The  life  and  the 
soul  of  the  speech  of  Matthew,  Mark,  and  John  are 
Syriac;  the  dead  body  is  the  Hellenistic  Greek;  the 
faint,  expressionless  picture  of  that  dead  body  is  the 
English  translation. 

Even  the  Greek  of  Luke  which  is  the  purest  of  the 
New  Testament  and  abounds  most  in  classical  idioms,  is 
filled  with  Syriasms  and  Hebraisms,  from  the  evange- 
list's familiarity  with  Hebrew  and  Syriac  models.  Al- 
though Paul  was  by  far  the  best  educated  of  the  apos- 
tles, his  Greek  is  defective  and  betrays  in  ever  chapter 
his  Jewish  character  of  thought.  He  acknowledges  his 
imperfections  himself  on  that  score,  in  writing  to  the 
church  at  Corinth.  Paul  was  a  "Hebrew  of  the  He- 
brews," of  the  conservative  sect  of  the  Pharisees,  and 
being  "brought  up"  from  boyhood  at  Jerusalem  at  the 
feet  of  Gamaliel  the  Elder,  it  is  doubtful  whether  he 
ever  attended  any  of  the  excellent  schools  of  rhetoric 
which  made  Tarsus  in  the  opinion  of  Strabo  (xiv,  x, 
13,)  equal  to  Athens  and  Alexandria.  The  unwritten 
Talmud  had  pronounced,  before  Hillel's  time,  on  ac- 
count of  the  skepticism  introduced  during  the  Syrian 
persecution,  a  curse  on  him  who  should  study  Greek; 
and  hence  the  Jews  did  not  attend  generally  (says 
Josephus  in  his  Antiquities),  and  least  of  all  the  Phari- 
sees, the  philosophical  institutions  of  the  heathen.  In- 
deed the  Jews  even  yet  prefer  instruction  from  their 
rabbis.  Certain  quotations  current  throughout  the 
Greek-speaking  world,  as  certain  passages  from  Shakes- 
peare among  us,  were  known  to  Paul,  and  indeed  he 
cites  a  passage  that  is  found  in  the  Thais  of  Menander 
(1  Cor.,  xv,  33),  one  from  Aratus  (Acts  xvn,  28),  and 
one   from  Epiemnides  (Tit.,  1,  12).     Paul  in   his  epistle 


466  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 

to  the  Galatians  (i,  14),  makes  known  his  zeal  in  the 
study  of  the  Talmud,  which  had  been  drawn  up  parti- 
ally in  six  volumes  by  Hillel,  B.  C,  32.  His  evident 
preference  is  for  the  Syro-Chaldaic  or  "Hebrew"  of  the 
metropolis  of  Judaism.  Jesus  in  the  vision  on  the  road 
to  Damascus,  won  the  ear  of  Paul  in  the  sweet,  sacred 
home  tones  of  the  Hebrew  tongue.  Paul's  language 
throughout  is  saturated  with  this  strict  Hebrew  educa- 
tion and  his  Hebrew  habit  of  viewing  things.  To 
attain  to  a  living  consciousness  of  the  thoughts  of  this 
wonderful  genius  and  noble  christian  hero,  we  must  go 
over  in  some  sort  the  educational  ground  which  he 
traversed,  and  con  the  mass  of  learning  which  formed 
the  human  mental  furniture  of  the  first  and  sublimest  of 
Christian  theologues. 

What  is  the  cause  of  our  criminal  neglect  of  this 
branch  of  education?  Is  it  the  indolence  of  the  student, 
the  incompetence  of  the  teacher,  or  the  difficulty  of  the 
study?  To  a  mind  already  drilled  in  classical  grammar, 
the  Hebrew  lays  no  larger  tax  on  the  memory  than  the 
French,  and  is  of  immensely  less  labor  to  learn  than  the 
German,  the  Latin,  or  the  Sanskrit. 

Children  of  five,  six  and  seven  years  are  often  among 
the  Jews  set  to  the  work  of  Hebrew  study.  Prof. 
Young,  of  Harvard  University,  in  his  pamphlet  on  the 
"Value  of  the  Study  of  Hebrew  for  a  Minister,"  in- 
stances the  case  of  the  daughter  of  Dr.  J.  W.  Etheridge 
who  at  five  years  of  age  began  to  learn  Hebrew  in  the 
way  of  pleasant  pastime,  and  became  in  time  fully  con- 
versant with  the  word  of  God.  Heloise,  the  companion 
of  the  philosopher  Abelard  was  a  good  Hebrew  scholar 
at  the  age  of  twenty  years;  Margaret  of  Navarre,  at 
twenty-one.  Maimonides,  who  in  his  early  youth  was 
banished  from  his  father's  house  because  of  his  refusal  to 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    BLACKWELL.  467 

study,  subsequently  fell  in  with  a  teacher,  and  concludes 
his    commentary    on    the  Mishna    in    these    words:     "I, 
Moses,   the  son  of  Maymon,  commenced  this    commen- 
tary when  23  years  of  age,  and   finished  it   at  the   age  of 
30  in    the    land    of   Egypt."     Rashi,    commonly  called 
Jarchi,    from    the     Hebraization     of  his    city    Lunel,   in 
France,  completed  his  commentaries  at  33.     On  the  con- 
trary, Hillel,   who   became   president   of  the   college  at 
Jerusalem,  who  stands  as  Hannasi,  or  the  chief  in  Israel 
in   the   Talmud,    some   of  whose  sayings  are  quoted   in 
the  New   Testament  and   stamped  with  divine   sanction 
by  our  Savior,  and  who  died  four  years  after  the  birth  of 
Christ,  began  his  study   of  the  law   at  the   age  of  forty. 
Instancing  the  value   of  the  study,  the   following  exam- 
ples may  be  cited:     "Jerome,  at  great  expense,  secured  a 
Rabbi   to  aid  him  in  his   Hebrew  studies.     Luther  said 
that    his    knowledge    of   Hebrew    was    limited,    yet    he 
would  not  part  with  it  for  untold  gold.     Mehmcthon  de- 
clared that  the  little  he  knew  of  Hebrew  he  esteemed  of 
the   greatest   value   on   account  of  the  judgment  he  was 
enabled  to  form  in  regard  to  religion  [propter  judicium 
de  Religione^)     Milton    devoted    several     hours    every 
morning  to  the  Study  of  the   Scriptures   in  Hebrew;  he 
recommended  it  in  his  treatise  on  education,  and  his  own 
writings  both  in  prose  and   poetry,  attest  how  much  he 
was  indebted  to  that  study.     Coleridge  used  to  read  ten 
or  twelve  verses  of  Hebrew  every  evening,  ascertaining 
the  exact  meaning  of  every  substantive;    and   he  repeat- 
edly expressed  his  surprise   and  pleasure  at  finding  that 
in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  the  bare  primary  sense,   if  liter- 
ally rendered,  threw  additional  light  on  the  text.  (Table 
Talk,  p.  S6).     Bunsen    wrote  to    his  son  in    1840,   "My 
good  boy,  do  learn  Hebrew  well,  else  you  will  continue 
unripe  as  long  as  you  live,  in  many  respects.     It  is  com- 


468  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

paratively  an  easy  language,  and  yet  in  our  time  scarcely 
any  one  is  fluent  in  it.  Only  become  possessed  of  the  in- 
flections and  common  roots;  they  must  be  taken  by 
storm."  (Memoirs,  1,561.)  The  Hon.  Robert  Lowe,  of 
England,  ex-Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  who  was 
Home  Secretary  in  the  Ministry  of  Gladstone,  deliv- 
ered an  address  on  the  education  of  boys,  in  which  he 
said:  "There  is  one  language  which  I  think  it  is  a 
great  pity  is  almost  entirely  excluded  from  school  educa- 
tion in  England.  It  is  the  most  ancient,  and  perhaps  the 
most  interesting  in  itself  of  all  languages — I  mean  the 
Hebrew.  I  cannot  understand  how  a  man  can  consider 
himself  as  having  completely  mastered  the  elements  of 
Theology,  when  he  is  not  acquainted  with  that  lan- 
guage. It  is  not  merely  the  knowledge  of  the  language 
itself,  but  the  light  which  it  throws,  and  which  nothing 
else  can  throw,  upon  the  text  of  the  New  Testament,  for 
instance.  The  view  that  a  man  has,  the  knowledge  that 
a  man  gets  of  the  Bible,  when  he  reads  it  standing  on 
the  vantage-ground  of  a  knowledge  ot  the  Hebrew,  is 
infinitely  greater  than  can  be  got  by  taking  these  books 
up  and  passing  to  them  not  naturally  from  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  Hebrew  of  the  Old  Testament,  but  from 
the  Greek  classics.  I  hope  to  see  the  day  when  in  our 
schools  there  will  be  at  any  rate  an  option  for  the  study 
of  Hebrew.  Nothing  could  tend  more  to  develop  a 
thorough  and  sound  knowledge  of  the  Bible.'  (Prof. 
Young,  1.  c,  pp.  26,  27).  An  extension  of  these  views 
in  thier  application  to  all  alike  is  practically  carried 
out  in  the  Missouri  University,  the  only  institution 
in  America,  as  I  am  informed  by  the  United  States 
Commissioner  of  Education,  where  the  study  is  put 
on  a  basis  not  necessarilv  connected  with  theological  pur- 
suits.    The  recognition  of  the  facts,  as  stated  in  the  pre- 


LECTURE   OF    PROF.   BLACKWELL.  469 

amble  to  the  resolution  establishing  this  chair  that  "this 
University  is  patronized  by  the  inheritors  and  students 
of  a  Christian  civilization,  whose  historical,  literary  and 
ethical  springs  had  an  oriental  origin,  greatly  neglected 
but  nevertheless  challenging  the  attention  and  study  of 
the  highest  order  of  statesmen  and  citizens  of  culture," 
is  in  itself  a  terse  generalization  of  many  special  rea- 
sons, a  grateful  acknowledgment  of  an  incontrovertible 
truth,  a  justification  of  and  a  demand  for  the  founding  of 
the  Hebrew  chair. 

The  Semitic  tongues  have  not  in  America  received 
the  treatment  which  they  deserve.  The  study  of  lan- 
guage has  almost  entirely  confined  itself  among  our  lin- 
guists to  the  Indo-European  branch.  We  have  added  a 
Whitney  and  a  March  to  that  brilliant  coterie  of  savants, 
who,  under  the  leadership  of  Bopp,  Grimm,  Pott, 
Schleicher,  Benfey,  Kuhn,  Curtius,  Burnouf  and  Max 
Muller  have  constructed  a  most  fascinating  science.  It 
is  natural  that  we  should  fall  in  with  the  headlong  en- 
thusiasm of  Germany  for  this  field  of  Linguistics,  foras- 
much as  we  are  Germanic  in  tongue  and  lineage,  and 
our  language  is  a  shoot  of  the  old  Indian  stock.  The 
traditions,  the  nursery  tales,  the  folk-lore  and  the  my- 
thology of  our  race  are  in  kind  similar  to  those  of  the 
most  Aryan  time,  and  have  the  coloring  and  the  fra- 
grance of  that  Asiatic  table-land  whose  ante-historical 
breathings  are  whispers  of  the  sunset,  the  darkness,  the 
dawn,  and  the  day.  We  have  less  congenital  sympathy 
with  the  lore,  the  gnomes,  the  sagas,  and  the  endless 
unconnected  and  inconsequential  disquisitions  and  exe- 
geses of  the  law  which  abound  in  the  Talmud  and  the 
Midrabh.  The  literature  of  Aram,  of  Babylonia,  of 
extra-biblical  Palestine,  of  Ethiopia,  of  the  post-Islamic 
world    is    to    most    of    our    countrymen    in   its   original 


470  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

materials,  a  doubly-sealed  book.  We  have  no  names  but 
those  of  Stuart,  Robinson  and  William  Henry  Green  to 
add  to  those  of  Gesenius,  Ewald,  Delitzsch,  Furst,  De 
Sacy,  Quatremere,  Renan,  and  others  equally  distin- 
guished. The  student  of  the  best  thoughts  of  Oriental- 
ists must  seek  his  aids  in  untranslated  books  of  German 
and  French,  so  little  is  the  demand  of  English  scholars 
for  Semitic  instruction. 

It  has  not  always  been  so  in  America.  From  a  his- 
toryof  Harvard  University  which  was  kindly  put  in  my 
hands  by  our  able  president,  and  from  information  fur- 
nished me  in  a  pamphlet  already  noticed,  by  the  Han- 
cock professor  of  Hebrew  in  Harvard,  I  learn  that  more 
than  200  years  ago  it  was  deemed  by  the  over- 
seers of  that  great  institution  as  important  to  know 
Isaiah  and  the  Psalms  in  the  original,  as  to  know 
Homer  and  Aeschylus:  "Under  the  presidency  of 
Dunster  [in  1642]  no  one  could  receive  his  first  degree 
unless  he  was  able  to  render  the  original  of  the  Old  and 
New  Testament  into  the  Latin  tongue.  *  *  In  1708,  at 
morning  prayers,  all  the  students  were  ordered  to  render 
a  verse  out  of  the  Old  Testament  from  the  Hebrew  into 
Greek,  except  the  Freshman.  *  *  Orations  in  Hebrew 
were  spoken  at  Coommencements."  The  last  of  these 
was  given  in  181 7.  "The  study  of  this  language  was 
made  obligatory  upon  all,  regardless  of  what  was  to  be 
their  destination  in  life;  for  it  was  held,  as  a  vote  of  the 
President  and  Fellows  of  Harvard  College  declared, 
'that  the  knowledge  of  it  is  necessary  to  the  divine, 
useful  to  the  scholar  and  reputable  to  the  gentleman; 
and  it  is,  therefore,  required  that  the  students  of  the 
University  be  instructed  in  the  elements  and  first  princi- 
ples of  this  simply  ancient  and  venerable  tongue.'  " 

The   western   world   is  moving   in  the  direction  so 


LECTURE     OF    PROF.    BLAOKWELL.  471 

ably  pioneered  by  the  old  engineers  of  discovery,  and 
we  behold  year  after  year  Hebrew  professorships  estab- 
lished in  our  best  institutions.  Harvard  University,  as  I 
have  shown,  took  the  lead,  and  speedily  was  followed  by 
Yale,  Cornell  University,  Vanderbilt  University,  Johns 
Hopkins  University,  and  about  fifty  other  universities 
and  colleges,  until  so  strong  an  invitation  has  been  given 
to  investigation  in  this  beforetime  neglected  branch  of 
knowledge,  that  any  university,  to  maintain  prestige,  ex- 
hibit advancement,  and  claim  equality  with  its  fellows 
can  no  longer  dare  to  treat  with  indifference  the  sacred 
language  of  inspiration.  Missouri  has  not  been  behind 
in  the  great  privileges  which  she  affords  her  sons  and 
daughters.  To-day  we  behold  the  great  spectacle  of 
the  immense  West  and  Northwest  clamorous  for  a  posi- 
tion in  education,  intelligence,  and  refinement  propor- 
tionate to  their  great  wealth  and  ever-increasing  popu- 
lation. The  lavish  liberality  of  their  gifts  will  be  re- 
paid in  the  vastly  increased  products  of  educated  labor, 
in  accession  of  population,  and  in  a  wider  prevalence  of 
order  and  social  security.  And  who  shall  sav  that  we 
shall  not  in  our  own  good  time  return  to  the  East  warm- 
er rays  of  genius  and  learning,  beaming  back  from  our 
sunset  land?  Who  shall  say  that  upon  these  foundations 
of  early  culture  we  may  not  set  up  an  empire  of  mind 
co-extensive  with  our  territorial  greatness?  In  all  these 
aspirations,  I  have  none  greater  than  that  in  the  cultiva- 
tion of  the  high  questions  of  nature,  mind,  and  destiny, 
we  shall  excel  in  that  branch  of  investigation  for  which 
the  chair  I  represent  was  established.  We  walk  in 
many  linguistic  wonders.  Who  knows  but  in  some 
curve  of  the  labyrinth  through  which  we  grope  we 
may  behold  the  daylight  of  escape  from  some  long-tor- 
turing mystery? 


ART— ITS  RELATION  TO  EDUCATION  AND 
THE  INDUSTRIES. 


By  Conrad  Diehl,  Professor  of  Art  in  the  Uni- 
versity of  the  State  of  Missouri. 

Art  is  the  means  for  the  embodiment  or  the  con- 
summation of  the  inspirations  of  man's  creative  powers. 
These  inspirations  either  elevate  the  mind  above  coarse 
matter,  or  the}-  enable  us  to  m;ike  matter  subserve  our 
wants  and  purposes.  The  first  of  these  are  esthetical, 
the  last  utilitarian. 

-We  can  hardly  assume  that  the 'man  who  was  the 
first  to  conceive  and  apply  the  wedge,  the  screw,  the 
lever,  the  steam-engine,  was  less  inspired,  or  exalted, 
than  the  man  who  produced  the  first  soap  or  gunpow- 
der; or  he  who  sprung  the  first  arch  or  spanned  the  first 
river;  made  the  first  plow,  wagon  or  ship;  substituted 
the  alphabet  for  the  hieroglyphics  or  made  the  first 
printing-press,  lithograph  or  light-picture;  chiselled  the 
first  statue,  covered  the  first  canvas,  wrote  the  first  poem, 
or  composed  the  first  symphony.  The  inspiration,  in 
either  case,  must  have  been  genuine,  though  of  differing 
intensity  and  duration. 

The  world  uses  the  word  Art  as  something  specific, 
and  ignores   the   fact  that  Art   is  a  generic  term  which 


474  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

embraces  the  fine  and  Mechanical  Arts — Architecture, 
Engineering,  Warfare,  &c.  All  these  have  two  things 
in  common :  their  basis  is  Form ;  their  expression  Form- 
Language  or  the  utterance  of  Nature- 
It  is  the  common  acceptation  in  our  country  that 
Art  is  a  hot  house  plant,  only  capable  of  cultivation 
among  nations  that  have  reached  the  highest  stage  of 
their  development,  whilst,  virtually,  it  has  been  the 
chief  means  to  attain  to  it.  This  presumption  can  easily 
be  accounted  for,  in  that  we  receive  the  products  of  what 
ive  term  Art,  at  second  hand  from  abroad ;  and  even  this 
foreign  supply  does  not  fail  to  stamp  its  impress  on  our 
home-products  of  industrial  manufacture; — this,  simply, 
because  all  other  things  being  equal — that  article  which 
bears  the  stamp  of  this  priestess,  who  ministers  to  the 
innate  sense  of  the  beautiful  in  man,  determines  our 
choice,  even  at  expense  and  sacrifice.  Not  only  are 
the  objects  of  use  products  of  Art,  but  even  the  instru- 
ments and  implements  by  which  they  were  made:  every 
devise  to  arm  or  supplement  the  hand  or  eye;  tor  Art 
stands  in  contradistinction  to  Nature,  and  as  Nature  is 
one,  so  must  Art  be  one. 

Products  of  Utilitrian  Art,  that  are  devoid  of 
beauty,  are  at  best  but  useful  crudities.  Beauty  is 
ever  the  inseparable  attendant  on  their  perfecting. 
Look  at  the  graceful  plow  of  our  day,  which  can 
be  handled  with  more  ease  by  a  half-grown  boy  and 
horse,  than  could  the  cumbersome,  unwieldly  imple- 
ment of  yore,  by  two  men  and  a  yoke  of  oxen.  Let 
us  look  nearer:  compare  the  first  steam-engine,  steam- 
boat or  locomotive  with  the  marvels  of  our  day; 
"but,"  will  be  interposed,  "these  are  results  of  mechani- 
cal improvement;" — granted.  What  does  mechanical 
improvement  mean  ?     It    means    a    nearer    approach   to 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    DIEHL.  475 

Nature:  an  epytomizing  of  its  organic  structure  to  a 
conformation  with  Nature,  by  utilizing  and  adapting  the 
lessons  learnt  in  nature.  Beauty  and  fitness  are  insepar- 
able; for  when  the  attempt  is  made  to  beautify  at  the 
expense  of  the  useful,  Art  proper  ceases,  and  Artifice,  i. 
e.,  desception,  fraud — that  vilest  of  all  substitutes  for  the 
true  and  the  beautiful — asserts  itself:  Artifice  is  Art- 
shoddyism. 

In  order  that  the  Arts  may  become  indigenous  in 
our  country,  it  is  the  mission  of  our  race  of  teachers  to 
bring  out  the  minds  of  the  rising  generation  into  sympa- 
thy with  nature.  They  must  be  like  priests  and  priest- 
esses: ever  celebrate  the  nuptials  of  the  useful  and  the 
beautiful,  by  teaching  in  connection  with  every  subject: 
Natural  Science,  geography,  &c,  form-reading  and  wri- 
ting, parrallel  with  the  course  of  instruction  in  word- 
reading  and  writing. 

Another  argument  that  may  be  made,  is  the  plea  that 
the  American  people  have  not  yet  reached  that  stage  of 
opulence,  that  will  admit  of  giving  attention  to  anything 
beyond  the  material  necessaries  of  existence.  The  prod- 
igality with  which  capital  is  squandered  in  manias,  such 
as  horse-racing,  yachting,  walking  matches;  the  build- 
ing of  cracker-castles,  betting,  gambling,  and  other 
shoddy-extravagances,  render  this  plea  exceedingly 
weak.  The  sums  annually  expended  in  vulgar,  ostenta- 
tious display,  in  the  shape  of  dress,  furniture,  &c,  would 
besides  securing  the  most  elegant  and  tasty  wearing-ap- 
parel, interior  appointments,  &c,  go  far  to  beautify  our 
cities  and  towns  if  invested  in  landscape-gardening,  and 
monuments,  besides  insuring  for  those  who  are  able  and 
willing,  more  substantial  satisfaction  and  enjoyment  of 
their  investment. 

The  youth  of  our  land  squander  their  patrimony  in 


476  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

demoralizing  indulgences,  in  large  part,  because  the  cul 
tivating  influences  of  true  Art  and  Taste  have  never 
lifted  their  souls  to  an  appreciation  of  something  better. 

The  encouragement  of  Art  has  a  conservative  in- 
fluence to  save  us  from  the  evils  of  prodigality  and 
wastefulness,  and  to  utilize,  in  its  highest  form,  the  un- 
told wealth  of  our  natural  resources. 

The  productive,  social,  and  political  prosperity  of  a 
nation  has  ever  been  determined  by  the  standard  of  its 
educational  system,  and  the  extent  to  which  educational 
interests  have  been  made  popular.  In  most  of  the 
European  states  a  department  is  established  to  define  and 
enforce  a  course  of  study  in  every  pursuit,  whilst  in 
America,  on  the  contrary,  the  people  themselves  have 
the  government  of  this  matter  in  their  own  hands. 
Here  the  citizens  elect  men  from  their  own  midst,  to 
whom  they  entrust  the  sacred  charge  of  supervising  their 
educational  interests;  thus  giving  into  their  hands  the 
future  development  of  national  prosperity  and  the  main- 
tenance of  liberty 

The  School  Directors  assume  the  guardianship  over 
our  children,  and  to  their  guidance  alone,  must  we  look 
for  a  redemption  from  the  abuses  perpetrated  by  our 
national,  state  and  city  officials.  No  position  is  more 
honorable  than  that  of  Director  and  Guardian  of  Public 
Schools,  and  no  office  implies  a  tender  of  greater  confi- 
dence and  trust,  nor  can  such  be  accompanied  by  greater 
responsibilities,  not  even  that  of  chief  magistrate  of  a 
city,  state,  or  nation. 

In  our  internal  development,  a  great  want  has  made 
itself  felt  for  years,  the  true  cause  of  which  has  not  been 
seriously  traced,  and  hence  has  not  been  appreciated. 

The  causes  of  the  American  revolution,  the  out- 
rageous acts  on  the  part  of  Great  Britain:     "Navigation 


LECTURE    OF    PEOF.    DIEHL.  477 

Law,"  "Restrictions  on  Colonial  Manufactures,"  "Stamp 
Act,"  and  "Tea  Fraud,"  to  tax  the  Colonies,  were  but 
slight  items  when  compared  with  the  tax  and  depen- 
dence which  we  voluntarily  impose  upon  ourselves,  not 
alone  in  our  relations  to  England,  but  to  the  entire 
European  continent. 

Europe  imports  from  us  cotton,  grain,  dried,smoked, 
salt  and  fresh  meats;  England  returns  to  us  hardware, 
stoneware  and  textile  fabrics;  France  and  Bohemia, 
glassware;  Germany,  woodenware;  and  all  of  them 
products  of  industrial  and  aesthetical  Art. 

The  State  of  Missouri  alone,  can  furnish  the  Amer- 
ican market  with  iron  ore  of  a  superior  quality;  the  best 
clay  for  all  kinds  of  manufacture  is  found  all  over  this 
continent;  the  Chrystal  City  Glass  Company  has  recent- 
ly proved  that  the  material  abounding  in  the  United 
States  for  its  manufacture,  is  not  inferior  to  that  found  in 
Europe. 

The  argument  is  not  unfrequently  made,  that  despite 
the  heavy  premium  we  pay  on  European  manufactures, 
we  are  still  the  gainers,  because  we  cannot  compete  with 
them  in  point  of  cheapness.  The  inference  we  must 
however  draw,  is  simply  this:  we  cannot  compete,  be- 
cause we  are  not  educated  from  childhood  to  convert 
raw  material  to  our  uses  (that  process  which  has  been  so 
pointedly  styled  "raw  produce  mixed  with  brains,") 
owing  to  our  one-sided  or  literary  education,  and  the 
total  exclusion  of  fnanual  preparation.  Thus  we  pay 
tribute  to  skilled  labor  alone,  and  use  our  excellent  raw 
material  principally  in  such  manufactures  as  require  but 
little  skill,  and  for  whose  importation  we  cannot  afford 
to  pay  the  cost  of  transportation. 

If  the  basis  of  our  National  Economy  were  phi- 
lanthropy towards  Europe,  we  should  do  well  to  continue 


478  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

the  present  mode  of  exchange,  at  the  douhle  sacrifice  of 
a  larger  use  of  our  raw  products,  and  the  development 
of  our  native  undeveloped  talent  and  thrift. 

By  examining  the  Annual  Reports  of  the  Boards 
of  Education  of  the  great  cities  of  our  Union,  the  statis- 
tics will  show  that  but  a  slight  per  cent,  of  the  graduates 
of  the  higher  departments  enter  upon  a  technical  career; 
these  few  following  either  architecture  or  engineering. 
In  Europe  there  is  a  line  of  higher  schools  which  offers 
to  those  aspiring  to  excel  in  industrial  and  mechanical 
pursuits,  special  and  superior  advantages  for  developing 
the  native  resources  of  the  respective  states.  Similar 
advantages  not  being  offered  here,  as  a  part  of  the  public 
education  to  the  latent  talent  and  genius,  it  is  even  sur- 
prising that  any  of  our  High  School  graduates  should 
follow  industrial  or  art — industrial  vocations. 

We  have  no  cause  for  wonder  if  we  find  that  our 
workshops  and  offices,  however  closely  or  remotely  con- 
nected with  thinking  and  working  in  form,  are  in  a  great 
measure  dependent  on  the  influx  of  this  element  from 
abroad.  Skilled  mechanics  and  artisans  come  to  us,  ready 
made,  and  bring  with  them  a  passport  that  is  valid  all 
the  world  over;  all  of  them  being  more  or  less  familiar 
with  the  universal  language,  Form.  They  prove  a 
valuable  acquisition  in  our  workshops  before  they  can 
speak  our  language,  because  they  can  read  a  design,  or 
even  improve  upon  one,  and  are  skilled  in  manual  exe- 
cution. 

Owing  to  these  disadvantages,  the  native  graduate 
cannot  compete  with  the  stranger  on  entering  into  prac- 
tical life;  for  he  has  laid  a  foundation  for  only  the  hith- 
erto principal  pursuits:  commerce,  law,  and  politics. 
Let  a  prominent  business  man  advertise  for  a  native 
head-clerk,  and  a  machine  builder  for  a  native  foreman; 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.   DIEHL.  479 

(the  salary  of  the  latter  invariably  exceeds  that  of  the 
former,)  the  merchant  will  receive  one  hundred  applica- 
tions from  competent  men,  to  every  one  received  from  a 
competent  machinist  by  the  builder. 

Some  of  the  greatest  evils  in  our  social,  as  well  as 
political  conditions,  we  must  attribute  solely  to  the  fact, 
that  too  few  channels  are  open  to  our  talented  and 
ambitious  youths,  whose  education  has  not  prepared 
them  (to  become  producers,  that  they  may  enter  up- 
on a  more  independent  and  legitimate  career,)  than 
that  of  tasking  their  wits  to  live  upon  the  produc- 
ing portion  of  our  nation.  The  supply  for  the  above 
named  pursuits  (commerce,  law,  politics),  being  greater 
than  the  demand ,  accounts  for  the  flourishing  condition 
of  certain  places  of  amusement,  frequented  and  sustained, 
principally,  by  bright  young  men  that  are  without 
proper  employment,  to  make  their  worthless  existence 
endurable;  besides  this,  young  aspirants,  in  order  to  keep 
up  appearances,  wear  better  clothes  and  make  greater 
demands  on  the  luxuries  of  life,  than  young  men  who 
are  fully  interested  and  absorbed  in  useful  labor;  the 
former  consuming  the  produce  of  their  fellow-men,  the 
latter  enjoying  their  moderate  share,  and  contributing  to 
the  welfare  of  others,  besides  insuring  their  own  inde- 
pendence and  happiness.  The  crying  evil  of  our  soci- 
ety is:  too   many  drones,  too  few  producers. 

From  day  to  day  it  becomes  more  apparent,  that 
the  great  states  and  cities  of  the  Union  must  take 
measures  to  insure  for  themselves  a  greater  enjoyment 
of  their  home  produce. 

Twenty  years  ago,  the  tide  of  emigration  did  not 
flow  far  beyond  the  western  limit  of  this  state.  Farmers 
were  then  obliged  to  bring  their  products  to  the  cities  on 
wagons,  in  exchange  for  other  commodities.     St.    Louis 


480  GNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

and  other  Western  cities,  as  marts  of  exchange  be- 
tween the  great  producing  West  and  the  manufacturing 
East,  grew  and  prospered  in  the  measure  in  which  trans- 
portation, and  thus  emigration  was  facilitated.  Owing 
to  the  extensive  shipping  facilities  at  the  present  day, 
the  farmer  needs  no  longer  haul  his  crops  to  the  nearest 
great  market;  on  the  contraiy,  arrangements  are  being 
more  and  more  perfected  on  the  part  of  Eastern  mer- 
chants, to  load  the  produce  on  the  spot  upon  which  it 
was  cultivated,  and  to  make  their  exchanges  direct;  thus 
saving  the  heavy  tribute  which  formerly  fell  to  these 
cities.  It  is  not  venturesome  to  predict  that  in  less  than 
forty  years,  three-fourths  of  the  commodities  that  are  at 
present  shipped  to  St.  Louis  for  distribution  westward, 
(which  still  constitutes  the  most  lucrative  feature  of  this 
city's  commerce)  will  be  made  available  to  the  consumers 
at  their  homesteads  at  rates  as  low  as  in  St.  Louis; 
but  what  can  prevent  our  state  from  supplying  the  great 
West  and  South  with  these  necessaries  within  that 
period,  or  even  from  sending  articles  of  superior  manu- 
facture to  the  New  England  States? 

The  Eastern  states  have  long  taken  steps  to  further 
other  interests  beyond  those  of  commerce,  agriculture 
and  mining,  namely  industry  and  manufacture;  and  their 
commercial  centres  are  now  making  strenuous  efforts  to 
compete  with  Europe  in  their  highest  branches.  Mas- 
sachusetts has  made  drawing  an  obligatory  study  in  all 
her  public  schools,  which  proves  that  this  State  is  deter- 
mined to  make  her  citizens  an  Art-Industrial  people. 
Cincinnati  has,  within  the  last  few  years,  taken  energetic 
steps  in  the  right  direction,  owing  greatly  to  the  munifi- 
cence of  Messrs.  McMicken  and  Probasco.  The  merch- 
ants and  manufacturers  of  St.  Louis  held  a  mass-meet- 
ing in  the   Mercantile  Library  on   February  nth,    1S73, 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    DIEHL.  481 

for  the  purpose  of  deciding  upon  some  definite  plan  to 
further  these  interests.  From  remarks  male  by  several 
prominent  citizens,  the  assembly  could  but  conclude  that 
the  only  thing  necessary  for  developing  industrial  enter- 
prise in  that  citv,  is  the  establishment  of  a  permanent 
industrial  exposition. 

It  is  difficult  to  comprehend  in  what  measure  such  a 
permanent  exposition  could  further  our  productive  inter- 
ests, under  the  present  conditions  of  our  industry  and 
manufactures.  Samples  of  all  kinds  of  produce  are 
brought  to  the  Merchant's  Exchange,  and  their  market 
value  is  quoted  in  the  newspapers  daily.  All  new  in- 
ventions of  any  practical  value,  arc  placed  on  exhibition 
at  pur  annual  fairs,  and  are  duly  announced  and  discussed 
in  the  press,  and  advertised — not  alone  in  its  columns — 
but  also  by  circulars,  bills,  and  show-cards. 

We  must  candidly  admit,  that  we  cannot  compete 
with  foreign  countries,  and  of  late  not  even  with  New 
England,  nor  shall  we  ever  become  independent  of 
them,  unless  we  do  as  they  have  done,  i.  e.,  establish 
schools  for  the  development  of  taste,  for  the  protection 
of  home-industry,  and  in  them  cultivate  our  home  talent. 
But  we  can  go  a  step  beyond  Europe  and  New  England 
in  our  educational  programme,  by  teaching  the  a,  b,  c, 
of  form  (geometrical  plane  figures),  simultaneously  with 
the  alphabet  of  written  language,  and  by  teaching  child- 
ren to  read,  write,  analyse,  and  construct  form,  parallel 
to  the  course  adopted  in  teaching  spoken  language. 
Classes  thus  trained  and  educated  will,  after  graduating, 
be  as  well  prepared  to  pursue  any  branch  of  mechanical 
or  industrial  enterprise,  as  to  enter  upon  any  occupation 
in  which  reading,  writing  and  cyphering  are  the  chief 
requirements.  For  tha  higher  development  of  the  more 
talented,  it  will  pay  every  community  in  this  country — as 


482  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

it  does  in  Europe — to  offer  superior  advantages,  by  estab- 
lishing technical  and  polytechnical  schools,  which  when 
conducted  on  ICrehling's  plan  at  Nuremberg,  not  only 
become  self-sustaining,  but  offer  a  remuneration  to  the 
advanced  pupils. 

Every  unprejudiced  teacher  will  admit,  that  child- 
ren American-born,  are  fully  as  talented  as  those  of  any 
other  country;  the  American  child  having  one  "Teat  ad- 
vantage, that  of  an  early  consciousness  of  the  truth,  that 
its  future  welfare  is  dependent  upon  its  own  individual 
exertions  and  achievements.  This  consciousness  forms 
the  main  stimulant  and  incentive  of  American  ambition 
and  go-adiead-a-tiveness,  which  achieves  great  ends,  des- 
pite the  almost  entire  absence  of  technical  education  in 
our  Public  Schools.  I  have  never  witnessed,  either  in 
Munich  or  in  Paris  more  tenacity,  and  in  consequence 
more  marked  progress,  than  that  displayed  by  American 
students. 

Gifted  young  men,  having  a  pronounced  talent  for 
either  sculpture,  historical  or  genre-painting,  are  obliged 
to  go  to  Europe  for  their  education  and  training.  Those, 
who  are  destitute  of  means  to  secure  such  an  expensive 
education,  must  abandon  all  hope  of  attaining  to  any  de- 
gree of  excellence. 

The  amounts  which  America  pays  to  Europe  for 
Art-Education  would  suffice  for  the  maintenance  of -two 
National  Art-Schools. 

Most  American  Artists  of  distinction,  become  so 
thoroughly  Europeanized,  that  they  remain  on  the  Con- 
tinent. America  in  patronizing  its  own  Artists  abroad, 
contributes  to  the  wealth  of  Europe  in  no  less  a  measure, 
than  by  patronizing  European  talent;  besides  barring 
itself  from  the  refining   influences  of  their  presence. 

Several   attempts   have   been   made   in   America,  to 


LECTURK    OF   PEOF.   DIEHL.  483 

establish  Art-schools.  In  only  a  few  instances  more  has 
been  attained,  than  the  erection  of  extravagant  exhibition 
buildings.  The  fact,  that  public-spirited  men  have  con- 
tributed sums  sufficient  to  make  the  building  of  such 
costly  toys  possible,  shows  a  heartfelt  desire  on  the  part 
of  our  people,  to  give  the  Fine-Arts  a  home  in  this 
country. 

It  is  erroneous  to  believe  that  we  can  import  a 
branch  from  the  blooming  and  fruit-bearing  tree  of 
European  Art  (that  has  been  growing  for  ages),  and  by 
planting  it,  reap  great  harvests.  In  order  that  we  may 
reap  the  fruit,  we  must  plant  and  nurse  the  seed. 

The  cause  of  failure  of  all  attempts  hitherto  made, 
to  provide  an  American  City  or  State  with  an  Art 
school,  can  easily  be  explained. 

The  origin  of  the  Academies  of  Design  in  New 
York  and  Chicago,  was  the  clubbing  together  of  young 
aspirants,  for  the  purpose  of  decreasing  the  individual 
expense  attending  the  study  from  life  (Academy  Figure). 
From  the  moment  that  Art-loving  citizens  became  inter- 
ested in  the  movement,  and  monies  flowed  into  the 
treasury,  the  character  of  these  organizations  underwent 
a  change.  A  so-called  Academy  Building  was  secured, 
and  the  greatest  exertions  made  to  make  the  galleries,  or 
fashionable  picture  salesrooms,  a  financial  success;  whilst 
the  schools  were  merely  continued  to  keep  up  the  ap- 
pearance of  philanthropic  design  on  part  of  these  asso- 
ciations. 

It  may  appear  in  bad  taste  that  I  now  indulge  my- 
self in  a  few  personal  remarks,  but  as  the  greater  por- 
tion of  my  conscious  existence  has  been  devoted  to  Art- 
Study,  and  inasmuch  as  it  has  fallen  to  my  lot  to  organize 
and  conduct  the  first  Art-Classes  in  the  West,  that 
offered.,  essentially,  the  same  advantages  to  the  Art-Stu- 


484  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

dent,  which  I  had  to  seek  abroad, — some  explanatory 
statements  may  not  be  deemed  out  of  place:  At  the  age 
of  17,  my  father  sent  mc  to  the  Munich  Academy.  I 
then  firmly  set  my  mind  on  preparing  for  the  task  of 
offering  at  a  future  day,  those  facilities  to  our  home- 
talent  which  I  was  obliged  to  seek  abroad.  I  remained 
five  years  in  Munich,  under  the  direct  influence  of  Kaul- 
bach,  and  then  visited  Paris,  where,  during  a  two  years' 
sojourn,  I  strove  to  enlarge  my  views  and  knowledge  in 
the  field  of  Art.  Soon  after  my  return,  I  was  placed  in 
charge  of  the  Academic  Department  of  the  Chicago 
School  of  Design,  and  established,  on  my  own  account, 
a  day  life-class, — which  was  the  first  ever  established  in 
the  West;  and  prior  to  this,  I  had  never  heard  of  one  in 
operation  in  the  East.  To  the  students  I  gave  my  ser- 
vices free.  Since  the  Chicago  Fire,  my  labors  have 
been  continued  in  St.  Louis,  where  shortly  after  my  ar- 
rival, the  St.  Louis  Art  Society  was  organized,  and  un- 
der its  aupices  an  Art  School.  For  the  furtherance  and 
use  of  the  latter,  the  St.  Louis  School-Board  appropri- 
ated a  room  on  the  iourth  floor  of  the  Polytechnic  Build- 
ing. Several  prominent  citizens  contributed  sums  aggre- 
gating $600.00  for  the  maintenance  of  the  schools,  and 
it  proved  one  of  the  most  hard-lived  enterprises  on 
record.  The  room  assigned,  had  for  upwards  of  ten 
years  been  unoccuppied,  and  about  a  year  after  it  had 
been  made  available,  it  was  annexed  by  the  Normal 
School.  During  the  course  of  that  year  however,  and 
through  the  generosity  ot  Mr.  Jas.  E.  Yeatman,  the 
same  advantages  were  extended  to  the  Ait-Student  that 
are  offered  by  European  Academies; — those  of  a  Day 
Life-Class.  In  July  the  result  of  that  years  work  was 
exhibited  in  the  Art  Club  Rooms  on  Boylston  street, 
Boston,    and    was    pronounced  .superior    to    the   exhibit 


JjECTURE  of  prof.  mehl.  485 

made,  but  a  week  previously,  by  the  National  Academy 
of  New  York  City.  The  work  of  the  school  was  sus- 
pended for  a  term  of  six  months,  and  the  students  were 
obliged  to  return  to  their  respective  homes;  two  of 
them  to  Chicago,  and  one  to  Milwaukee, — as  the  school 
had  attracted  professional  students  from  most  of  the 
Western  and  Northwestern  States.  Accommodations 
were  again  provided  by  the  School  Board,  in  a  room  ad- 
joining the  Library;  and  after  the  work  had  been  gotten 
fairly  under  way,  the  room  was  divided  into  two  floors, 
which  again  set  the  School  into  the  open  air  for  a  term 
of  nearly  four  months.  During  this  period  the  Wash- 
ington University  opened  an  Art  Department,  and  virtu- 
ally attracted  to  it  the  body  of  this  class.  When  posses- 
sion was  given  the  School  of  one-half  the  room,  i.  e., 
one-half  of  the  lower  half — the  work  was  resumed  with 
unabated  ardor  until  the  Dean  of  the  Polytechnic  De- 
partment of  Washington  University  ,  who  was  appointed 
Chairman  of  the  Library  Committee,  appropriated  the 
room  to  the  use  of  the  Librararian,  as  a  private  office, 
and  had  his  action  ratified  by  the  School  Board, — which 
virtually  disposed  of  the  Art  School.  During  the  term 
of  its  existence,  it  extended  its  benefits,  gratuitously,  to 
about  22  students,  the  remainder  paying  but  a  nominal 
fee.  Some  of  the  works  of  the  School  are  still  on  exhi- 
bition in  the  International  Exhibition  Co.'s  exhibit  at 
Philadelphia,  a'nd  were  pronounced  by  Mr.  John  Sartain, 
the  President  of  the  Philadelphia  Academy  of  Fine 
Arts,  the  best  School  work  there  displayed. 

The  recognition  of  matter  is  an  impossibility.  To 
us;  Form  is  everything.  Drawing  is  related  to  form, 
as  writing  is  to  language.  The  alphabets  of  written 
languages  are  manifold;  the  alphabet  of  form  is  univer- 
sal,   and    is    exhausted    in   f  lane -geometry .       The    sign 


486  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

which  represents  the  sound  <z,  is  different  in  nearly  every 
language.  In  many  languages  even  a  variety  of  signs, 
exist  for  representing  this,  and  also  for  many  other 
sounds;  whilst  regular  plane-figures,  such  as  the  equilat- 
eral triangle,  the  square,  circle,  ellipse,  &c,  are  forms 
that  are  conditioned  by  given  laws,  and  hence  unchange- 
able all  the  world  over. 

In  the  study  of  form,  the  power  of  perception  must 
chiefly  be  developed  and  cultivated.  The  eve  being  the 
direct  intermediator  between  that  by  which  we  are  sur- 
rounded, and  our  recognition  of  its  presence,  cannot  be 
cultivated  too  highly;  hence,  every  rational  and  sound 
mind  must  conclude,  that  all  methods  of  drawing  should 
strive  to  develop  this  organ ;  as  the  most  essential  feature 
in  the  study  of  form.  Unfortunately  this  is  not  the  case. 
All  elementary  drawing  methods  with  which  I  am  ac- 
quainted, seek,  as  their  highest  aim,  to  train  the  hand 
mechanically,  and  in  this  particular  endeavor:  one 
method  ever  strives  to  excel  the  other.  With  their  ac- 
companying manuals,  they  address  that  to  the  hand  and 
ear  which  can  only  reach  the  seat  of  intellect  through 
the  eye.  The  first  task  that  is  invariably  imposed  upon 
children,  is  the  drawing  of  straight  lines,  free-hand. 
Several  works  of  recent  publication  even  augment  this 
practice  by  an  endeavor  to  transform  the  pupils  into  au- 
tomatic yard-sticks.  The  inculcation  of  ideas  for  ac- 
quainting them  with  the  principles  that- condition  the 
formation  of  given  standard  forms,  and  phenomena,  is 
considered  as  unimportant,  and  the  children  are  thrown 
upon  their  own  resources   to  discover  them  unaided. 

A  thorough  acquaintance  with,  hence  a  knowledge  of 
a  subject  must  precede  its  teaching;  for  all  teaching  that 
is  not  based  upon  knowledge  cannot  be  educational. 
Any  person,  of  whatever  limited  mental  ability,  can  col- 


LKCTURE    OF    PROF.    DIEHL.  487 

lect  a  store  of  facts,  but  only  master-minds  are  capable  of 
grouping  them  under  the  laws  from  which  they  spring, 
i.  e.  'generalize.  A  teaching  of  facts,  is  training  in  its 
meanest  sense.  The  inculcating  of  universal  laws  and 
principles,  is  true  education;  which  enables  the  receipient 
to  deduce  facts.  Since  very  few  persons  who  engage  to 
teach  drawing,  can  trace  their  own  ability,  or  the  profi- 
ciency of  others  to  a  practical  and  natural  source,  but 
flatter  their  own  vanity,  by  believing  themselves — and  in 
their  efforts  to  convince  others — that  this  ability  can  only 
be  acquired  by  persons  who  are  particularly  endowed 
with  talent  and  genius, —  good-naturedly  deceive  them- 
selves and  others,  to  their  mutual  disadvantage. 

We  know  that  animals  are  susceptible  of  training, 
and  some, — such  as  mice,  birds,  dogs,  horses,  and  even 
elephants,  are  so  to  a  very  high  degree.  We  have,  there- 
fore, no  cause  for  wonder,  if  the  majority  of  mankind 
entertain  a  profound  aversion  for  such  practice. 

A  trainer  can  make  a  pupil  perform  certain  feats,  or 
do  certain  things  to  a  certain  degree;  the  pupil  being 
dependent  upon  his  trainer,  can  do  nothing  without  him. 
Another  trainer  taking  him  in  charge,  must  either  study 
the  tricks  already  acquired  by  his  new  pnpil,  or  the  pupil 
must  forget  his  old  tricks,  that  he  may  be  benefited  by  his 
new  master.  No  teacher  can  infuse  the  holy  fire  of  gen- 
ius into  his  pupil,  but  he  must  guard  against  extinguish- 
ing by  main  force,  the  sparks  existing.  The  methods 
that  are  most  generally  in  use  at  this  day,  are  most  ad- 
mirably adapted  to  accomplish  this  latter. 

As  the  Public  school  course,  as  well  as  that  of  the 
University,  has  but  one  mission:  To  lay  a  general  foun- 
dation for  preparing  the  future  citizen  for  all  ]3ursuits, — 
every  study  therein  embodied  must  have  its  natural, 
gradual,  organic  development.     In  the  preparation  of  a 


488  (JNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

course,  which  embraces  the  elements  of  all  that  may  be 
comprehended  as  underlying  form-reasoning,  as  well  as 
the  pictorial  imitation  of  natural  phenomena,  I  have 
carefully  avoided  to  act  in  the  class-room,  as  though  the 
work  under  my  charge  were  the  only  work  of  impor- 
tance; especially,  as  its  development  and  shaping  de- 
pended mainly  on  the  regular  teacher.  I  have  ever 
striven  to  steer  clear  of  defeating  my  aims,  by  avoiding 
to  arrogate  to  myself  any  undue  authority,  or  by  the 
enforcement  of  arbitrary  measures  for  securing  immedi- 
ate results;  yet  I  have  given  earnest  and  special  atten- 
tion to  detail,  but  without  losing  sight  of  the  whole 
structure. 

My  entire  course  of  proceeding  has  differed  in  ev- 
ery respect  from  that  of  the  ordinary  specialist,  who  en- 
ters the  school-room  with  "fhus  thou  sJiait  do"  but 
whose  ear  is  deaf,  if  not  his  understanding,  to  "why 
shall  I?"  and  how  can  I?" 

Let  us  briefly  consider  the  features  of  the  "American 
Text-Books  of  Art  education,"  which  are  generally  con- 
sidered a  model  course  for  district  and  high  schools. 
They  are:  i.  Free-hand  geometric  drawing;  2.  Outline 
representations  of  objects,  plant-forms,  &c. ;  3.  Conven- 
tionalization; 4.  Historical  ornament;  5.  Outline  draw- 
ing from  geometric  objects;  6.  Original  design.  The 
first  of  these  I  shall  not  attempt  to  confute,  simply 
because  its  absurdity  is  manifest,  and  will  therefore  only 
treat  of  the  latter,  owing  to  their  apparent  plausibility : 
Of  what  practical  use  to  the  student  can  be  these  imi- 
tations of  black-line  transcriptions  of  historical  conven- 
tionalized type-forms,  at  the  expense  of  suffocating  those 
faculties  and  powers,  which  in  a  latent  state,  the  average 
school-child  as  fully  possesses,  as  does  the  Artist;  who 
only  learns  to  utilize  them  in  the  measure  as  he  becomes 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    DIEHL.  489 

familliar  with  Nature's  products,  laws  and  phenomena. 
A  perusal  of  Owen  Jones  "Grammar  of  Ornament" 
or  "L'Ornement  Polychrome"  by  Racinet,  (copies  of 
which  should  be  made  available  for  consultation  in  every 
library  in  the  land),  will  convey  more  of  the  character 
and  beauty  of  Conventionalized  Historic  Art  in  an  hour, 
and  stimulate  a  greater  desire  to  cultivate  its  earnest 
study,  than  would  all  the  black  line  transcriptions  thereof 
in  a  life-time.  The  meaning,  i.  e.,  the  charm,  the  glow, 
the  fullness  of  an  Oriental  or  Mediaeval  decoration,  can 
no  more  be  conveyed  to  the  mind  by  these  cold  and 
meaningless  diagrams,  than  could  the  luscious  savor  of 
tropical  fruits,  by  chewing  a  few  parched  leaves  of  the 
plants  which  bear  them.  But  what  would  prove  im- 
measurably more  effective  than  the  above,  would  be  the 
construction  and  decoration  of  a  few  rooms  in  the  High 
Schools  and  Universities,  strictly  in  imitation  of  the  best 
historic  types,  and  making  them  accessible  to  the  stu- 
dent. This  would  not  only  advance  the  Art-culture  of 
the  communities  enjoying  their  possession,  but  would 
attract  swarms  of  strangers  to  enjoy  their  benefits. 

Ask  the  Sculptor,  who  stands  at  the  head  of  his 
profession,  what  conve)iiionalizuig  (style)  means,  in  Art. 
He  will  show  you,  if  his  vocabulary  should  fail  him  to 
formulate  in  words,  that  it  means:  the  transmutation  of 
Nature's  type-forms  into  type-forms  of  Art.  Ask  the 
Painter,  who  stands  at  the  head  of  his  profession,  the 
mission  of  outline-representation  in  Art;  he  will  tell 
you  that  it  is  chiefly  resorted  to  where  the  sublime,  and 
the  purely  imaginative  is  to  be  portrayed,  in  order  to 
make  the  resemblance  to  material  reality  less  palpable. 
From  both  you  will  learn  that  the  means  in  question,  are 
only  proper  mediums  to  be  employed  by  the  master,  and 
that  practice  on  the  part  of  the  student  in  these  Art  pro- 


490  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

cesses,  must  leave  him  a  tyro  in  Art,  on  a  level  with  the 
savage;  who  conventionalizes  in  outline  diagrams,  from 
inability  to  reproduce  what  he  sees,  or  desires  to  repre- 
sent,— by  other  means.  This  illustrates  forcibly  that  "ex- 
tremes meet"  that  the  step  from  the  "sublime  to  the  re- 
diculous"  is  but  one:  what  the  master  ot  his  art  resorts 
to,  to  elevate  his  work  above  the  matter  of  fact  reality, 
the  savage  practices  from  want  of  power  to  imitate  the 
fact.  Conventionalization  is  in  Form-Language,  what 
metaphor  is  in  word-language:  generalization  from 
lack  of  ability  to  specialize,  or  generalization  in  its  high- 
est sense. 

The  most  marked  feature  of  this  model  course,  how- 
ever, is  Original  Design.  The  child  or  student  is  given 
a  few  units  of  ornament  which  he  is  directed  to  arrange 
or  repeat  on  an  axis,  vertical,  or  horizontal,  or  oblique; 
— or  around  a  centre.  This  latter  direction,  indicates  the 
aim  for  a  quality  in  original  design  which  is  of  the  high- 
est order,  viz.,  a  central  idea.  The  scope  of  this  idea  is, 
however,  very  limited  as  applied  or  developed,  in  this 
Model  System  of  mind  calisthenics,  in  comparison  with 
that  of  the  Decoration  of  the  Vatican,  the  Sixtine 
chapel,  the  Arsenal  and  Opera  House  at  Vienna;  the 
Museum  at  Berlin,  the  Royal  Residence  at  Munich,  or 
the  Wartburg,  &c.  This  enumeration  may  seem  far- 
fetched, even  ludicrous;  but  we  must  bear  in  mind,  that 
the  initiatory  steps  must  be  made  in  the  direction  of  the 
goal ;  the  possibilities  of  Art.  No  person  can  compose 
or  design  a  detail  of  ornament,  unless  he  is  capable  of 
designing  a  complete  decoration.  Let  us  but  look  at  a 
detail  of  decoration  in  the  true  sense;  for  example,  some 
of  the  upright  panels  of  the  Vatican :  the  "Seasons  or 
Fates;"  and  no  matter  where  the  eye  will  'wander:  the 
central  idea  will  force    itself  upon  the  mind.      The  prin- 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    DIEHL.  491 

ciple  underlying  Composition  in  Art,  or  as  the  para- 
phrase terms  it  Original  Design,  is  essentially  the 
same,  as  that  underlying  a  work  of  architecture,  engi- 
neering, machinery,  poetry,  music  or  a  scientific  treatise, 
viz.,  that  the  disposition  of  all  the  component  parts  shall 
be  so  made  as  to  form  one  harmonious  whole.  Let  us 
now  look  for  the  central  idea  of  the  work  that  is  the 
outcome  of  this  Model  System:  the  only  central  idea  of 
which  the  child  or  student  producing  the  design,  is  con- 
scious of,  is  the  centre  proper  of  the  geometric  diagram, 
around  which  the  given  elements  have  been  arranged  in 
a  meaningless  manner.  Now  let  the  author  of  this  de- 
vise consult  his  own  conscience,  and  say  if  this  is  not  the 
central  idea  which  was  uppermost  in  his  mind  when  he 
laid  down  this  course  of    Original  Design. 

No  amount  of  practice  of  this  kind  can  possibly 
lead  the  student  to  the  attainment  of  results  beyond 
those  of  the  merest  mediocrity;  even  in  the  special  direc- 
tion in  which  these  and  like  methods  purport  to  lead 
them.  May  good  fortune,  or  what  is  better,  timely  ef- 
fort, preserve  us  from  stick  originality  of  design. 

Our  work  is  conducted  with  the  use  of  charts  and 
models,  which  take  the  place  of  the  text-book,  for  giv- 
ing the  child  and  the  student  the  traditions  of  Form- 
Study  and  Art,  and  for  acquainting  them  with  Art-pro- 
cesses and  practices  in  order  that  they  become  apt  pupils 
of  that  greatest  of  all  teachers, — Nature.  The  District 
school  pupil  is  put  to  no  expense,  save  that  involved  in 
securing  clean  paper,  that  is  especially  prepared  for  our 
work,  and  a  pencil;  also,  when  far  enough  advanced,  a 
cheap  set  of  instruments  for  geometric  drawing. 

The  first  notions  that  are  given  the  child  are  on  the 
two  form-properties,  viz;  straightness  and  curvature. 
After    teaching    the    circle    and  its  parts,  the  directions 


492  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

which  straightness  can  assume,  the  two  properties  of  cur- 
vature are  proceeded  with.  Then  the  difference  and  fixed 
relations  of  direction,  the  division  curves  'into  measu- 
rable and  free.  The  free  curves  are  then  presented  as 
the  elements  of  all  free-curved  ornamentation ;  then  the 
development  of  all  geometric  plane-figures  is  proceeded 
with  (which  forms  the  alphabet  proper  of  jForm-lau- 
guage)  and  their  construction  is  illustrated.  The  child 
is  next  made  familiar  with  the  laying  out  (development) 
of  the  superficies  of  the  regular  solids,  also  taught  to  fold 
these  and  its  observation  is  stimulated  by  showing  how 
surfaces  of  bodies,  turned  towards  the  light,  appear 
lighter  than  those  receding  or  turned  away  from  it;  also 
how  the  latter  surfaces  can  be  illuminated  by  reflecting 
light  upon  them.  In  order  that  the  child  may  learn  to 
observe  these  phenomena  in  nature,  it  is  given  examples 
in  the  representation  of  surfaces  in  light,  shade,  and 
shadow;  and  all  that  may  be  said  regarding  the  imprac- 
ticability of  this  practice,  only  tends  to  show  how  little 
the  education  of  the  eye  is  considered  in  the  ordinary 
schemes  of  form-instruction  styled  "Systems  of  Draw- 
ing." Spirit  away  light,  if  but  for  a  moment, — and  of 
what  use  becomes  this  valuable  organ:  The  presence 
of  light  is  the  immediate  cause  of  all  visual  phenomena. 

It  is  with  the  building  up  of  a  healthful  mental,  and 
moral  condition,  as  with  that  of  a  healthy  physique. 
The  proper  food  for  the  stomach  is  organic  substance; 
that  for  the  brain  concrete  ideas. 

What  water  is  for  the  assimilation  of  food,  light 
is  for  the  assimilation  of  exact  notions  and  ideas.  The 
per  cent  of  water  in  the  physical  system  is  quoted  as 
ranging  from  75-7S;  what  the  proportion  of  light  should 
be  in  the  mental  system,  has  not  been  determined,  nor 
measured;  yet,  it  is  the  mission  of  education  to  supply  it 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    DIEIIL.  493 

in  such  quantities,  as  may  enable  the  recipient   to  con- 
duct his  future  actions  by  the  li<ght  of  reason. 

Examples  in  the  light  and  shade  are,  however,  never 
given,  before  the  child  has  been  shown  the  forms  that 
are  to  be  represented.  These  are  drawn  with  a  knife, 
out  of  a  soft  substance;  such  as  a  potato,  turnip,  or  soft 
wood, — and  thus  the  child  fully  understands  the  condi- 
tions which  it  attempts  to  reproduce.  In  order  to  assist 
the  child  in  making  correct  observations,  and  accurate 
representations  of  the  appearance  of  simple  surface- 
forms,  as  seen  under  various  conditions,  the  shadows  of 
the  square  and  circle  are  projected.  These  shadows 
show  exactly  how  the  surfaces  themselves  would  appear, 
when  seen  from  the  position  of  the  luminous  body.  The 
child  is  also  taught  to  observe,  that  small  objects  held 
near  to  the  eye,  will  close  out  from  view  larger  objects 
that  are  removed  from  it;  also,  that  through  a  small  ori- 
fice near  the  eye,  greater  objects  can  be  seen  entire  at  a 
distance  from  it.  By  an  arrangement  of  parallel  planes, 
it  can  be  led  to  realize,  that,  whilst  but  one  magnitude  of 
one  plane,  held  in  the  direction  in  which  it  looks,  may 
be  visible,  more  of  the  surfaces  of  the  other  tins  will  be 
seen,  in  measure  as  they  are  farther  removed  from  this 
plane.  With  these  and  many  other  practical  experi- 
ments, the  child  is  unconsciously  made  familiar  with  the 
distance  point,  and  horizon  of  perspective.  Beginning 
with  the  third  school-year,  the  child  is  not  alone  taught 
to  use  instruments  in  the  construction  of  geometric 
problems,  but  also  directed  and  encouraged  to  exercise 
the  eye  and  hand  in  tracing  the  apparent  boundaries  of 
objects,  and  the  surfaces  enclosing  them,  and  to  imitate 
the  relative  lights  and  darks  thereof,  at  home.  To 
assist  it  in  this  work,  it  is  shown  that  the  formation  of 
most  objects  of  ordinary  use,  is  based  on  the  regular  geo- 


494  UNIVERSITY    OF    MISSOURI. 

metric  forms,  principally  on  the  rectangle  and  circle;  and 
it  is  directed  to  select  such  objects  for  imitation,  as  are 
based  on  the  forms  that  are  considered  in  the  class-room. 
Of  the  free  curves  of  Ornament,  the  Sigmoid  is  particu- 
larly dwelled  upon,  as  in  no  instance  in  the  History  of 
Art,  has  a  greater  fertility  in  varying  the  application  of  a 
simple  element  been  shown,  than  did  the  Greeks  with 
the  S-curve  in  their  flower-ornament  (Anthemion). 
This  curve  can  be  traced  through  the  history  of  all 
nations,  i.  e.,  their  applied  Arts.  The  Wave-Line  and 
Rolling-Curve  are  also  traced  through  all  the  styles  and 
periods  of  Ornamentation. 

Whilst  I  have  recognized  the  importance  of  mak- 
ing ample  provision  for  mechanical  and  scientific  draw- 
ing, I  have  nevertheless  given  the  greatest  attention  to 
stimulating  and  directing  the  child's  observation  to 
"Nature:"  the  source  of  all  things; — and  to  initiating  it 
into  the  laws  of  Symmetry,  Harmony,  and  the  Beautiful. 

I  can  safely  assert,  that  the  means  which  I  have 
created  for  accomplishing  this,  cannot  be  supplanted  by 
speculative  theories.  What  I  have  successfully  carried 
into  the  school-room,  cannot  be  spread  on  text-books,  or 
covered  by  them.  The  subject  matter,  when  brought 
before  children,  presents  itself  in  its  essence,  without 
theories.  Practical  experiments  are,  after  all,  the  only 
sound  basis  for  theories,  and  are  paramount  to  them  with 
children. 

The  teachings  of  science  are  laid  down  in  standard 
works,  and  every  specialist  finds  a  complete  library  at 
his  service.  A  general  preparation  is  infinitely  more 
valuable  than  is  a  special  one,  even  to  the  student  of  a 
specialty. 

Let  us  now  inquire  into  the  means,  methods  and 
appliances,  that  shall    prove   most  effective  in  imparting 


LECTURE    OF     PROF.    DIEHL.  495 

to  our  rising  generation,  the  elements  of  that  knowledge, 
which  is  chiefly  instrumental  in  enabling  a  member  of 
society,  to  contribute  directly  towards  the  increase  of  its 
wealth;  the  elements  of  that  knowledge  which  consti- 
tutes the  producer :  the  study  of  Form. 

From  a  literary  point  of  view,  this  study  has  been 
excellently  provided  for  in  our  educational  institutions; 
but  not  so  in  its  essence. 

Education  has  but  one  true  mission.  It  is  that  of 
furnishing  the  pupil  or  student  with  all  the  means,  that 
may  be  necessary,  for  enabling  him  to  mark  out  his  own 
course  through  life,  in  whatever  pursuit  his  inclinations 
or  endowments  may  prompt  him  to  follow. 

The  cry  for  Industrial  Art-Education,  deafens  the 
just  demands  on  the  study  of  Form  as  a  necessary  branch 
of  general  education.  Every  man,  whatever  be  his  vo- 
cation,— whether  commercial,  professional  or  in  the 
trades,  has  a  constant  need  for  expressing  ideas  in  form, 
whether  it  be  for  arrangments  and  appointments  of  his 
business  interior,  the  organization  of  his  domestic  abode, 
his  office,  workshop  or  factory,  his  dining-room,  kitchen 
or  laundry,  his  garden,  field  or  pasture;  whatever  he 
plans,  is  based  on  and  comprehended  in  this  study.  The 
scientist,  of  whatever  speciality,  has  a  constant  use  for 
this  knowledge  and  often  discovers  to  his  great  regret, 
when  too  late,  that  he  is  deficient  in,  if  not  entirely  des- 
titute of,  one  of  the  most  valuable  agencies  for  giving 
expression  to  his  discoveries,  for  communicating  or  per- 
petuating his  experience,  and  must  take  recourse  to,  or 
what  is  worse,  place  himself  and  the  interpretation  of 
his  ideas  and  labors,  at  the  mercy  of  a  skilled  hand  and 
eye.  How  much  more  could  he  have  achieved,  had  he 
received  a  liberal  education  in  Form-reading,  and  a  rig- 
orous  training  in  Form-writing: ! 


496  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 

In  former  times  the  Artist  worked  up  to  an  exalted 
position  from  an  humble  apprenticeship  in  the  trades, 
as  a  stone  cutter,  iron-forger,  but  principally  from  the 
workshop  of  the  gold-smith.  To-day,  these  condi- 
tions are  changed:  apprenticeship,  in  the  true  sense, 
is  one  of  the  lost  arts, — and  professions  to  proficiency^ 
but  too  frequently,  occupy  the  place  of  proficiency  in  a 
profession. 

Formerly,  the  Artisan  and  Artist  were  so  nearly 
allied,  as  to  justify  the  acceptation  that  they  were  essen- 
tially one.  Processes  of  Art,  as  well  as  the  exercise  of 
what  are  at  this  day  considered  special  branches  of  Art: 
Painting,  Sculpture,  Architecture  and  Engineering, 
were,  no  farther  back  than  the  Middle  Ages,  practiced 
with  equal  success,  by  one  and  the  same  Artist.  Of  this 
the  great  dome  of  St.  Peter's  Cathedral  in  Rome, 
planned  by  Michael  Angelo;  Albert  Durer's  treatise  on 
fortifications,  which  was  the  best  of  that  age;  the  cele- 
brated "Rubens  tower"  at  Antwerp,  &c,  bear  testimony. 
This  proves  that  Art-Education  proper,  is  paramount 
to  a  special  preparation  for  any  of  its  pursuits,  as  in  their 
essence  it  embraces  them  all. 

Let  us  not,  therefore,  in  contemplating  the  hill  near 
at  hand,  lose  sight  of  the  mountain  in  the  distance;  the 
cry  is  for  Indastrial  Art!  this  I  heartily  applaud,  pro- 
vided: that  it  is  made  in  the  sense  that  we  should  set  to 
work,  spare  neither  time,  nor  energy,  nor  industry,  in 
our  efforts  to  make  Art  indigenous  in  our  midst;  if, 
however,  it  be  the  sense  of  this  cry:  that  we  shall  lose 
sight  of  all  else  in  the  Domain  of  Art,  or  Form-study, 
but  mere  conventionalized  surface-decoration,  such  as 
patterns  for  wall-paper,  oil-cloths,  calico-printing,  lace- 
collars,  &c, — then  I  caution  that  we  stop  here,  to  reflect, 
and  carefully  weigh  the  consequences  of  such  a  step — 
before  we  take  it. 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    DIRHL.  497 

What  applies  to  the  conventionalizing  of  plant 
forms,  must  of  necessity  also  apply  to  the  human  figure 
and  to  animals; — yet, — who  would  place  before  a  child, 
or  student,  the  conventionalized  types  of  Egyptian,  As- 
syrian, Greek  and  Mediaeval  figures  and  animals,  before 
making  him   thoroughly  familiar  with   their  prototypes. 

The  study  of  historical  ornament  is  one  of  the  great- 
est importance  to  the  student  of  Form, — but,  he  will 
enter  into  the  spirit  of  these  transcriptions,  translations 
and  transmutations,  only  in  the  measure  as  he  has  be- 
come familiar  with  the  history, — political  as  well  as  so- 
cial,— of  the  nation,  or  race,  of  which  they  are  the  ex- 
pression. 

The  value  of  surrounding  the  child  or  student  with 
the  best  models  that  are  typical  of  all  ages  and  climates, 
cannot  be  over-estimated; — but,  the  salutory  effects  of 
these  are  greatly  impaired,  when  they  are  only  collected 
and  arranged  in  the  form  of  fragmentary  reproductions, 
or  even  by  collections  of  original  fragments,  as  is  the 
case  in  most  museums:  English  Industrial  manufacture 
does  not  so  much  owe  its  excellence  to  the  peculiarly 
English  methods  of  Art-instruction,  as  to  the  establish- 
ment of  a  National  museum  at  South  Kensington, — 
which  is  a  model  that  excites  the  admiration  and  envy 
of  the  world.  Yet  England,  despite  this  possession,  re- 
mains but  a  mere  bartering  nation.  Whatsoever  does 
not  pay  she  does  not  foster:  she  even  sells  casts  from 
works,  whose  originals  are  distributed  amongst  the  Gal- 
leries of  the  Continent,  to  us,  much  cheaper  than  the 
countries  which  own  them,  respectively;  and  Yankee- 
dom  out-herods  England  by  securing  samples  of  Eng- 
lish, and  other  European  manufacture,  and  flooding  our 
Western  and  Southern  states  with  articles  and  goods, 
whose  patterns  cost  it  nothing,  and   by  so  doing,  stifles 


498  UNIVERSITY    OF   MISSOURI. 

and  suffocates  home  Art-enterprise,  ingenuity,  talent  and 
genius. 

In  the  erection  of  the  English  National  Museum 
neither  perseverance  nor  capital  were  spared.  Lord 
Elgin's  Guineas  divested  the  Athenean  Parthenon  ot  its 
Frieze.  The  great  feature,  that  which  causes  envy,  is 
not  so  much  the  intrinsic  value  of  the  collection,  as  the 
exemplification  of  the  meaning  of  the  parts  of  which 
it  is  formed:  hy  reproducing,  in  a  great  measure,  the 
surroundings  for  which  they  were  originally  designed. 
Thus,  the  work  of  a  nation  and  period  is  displayed  in 
rooms  that  are  constructed  to  illustrate  the  architecture 
of  such  nation. 

For  the  consummation  of  projects  that  have  been  on 
foot  in  our  country  for  many  years,  we  must  follow  the 
example  of  England:  —  We  must  create  Art  and  Art- 
Industrial  museums.  In  connection  with  these,  schools 
of  Art  and  Ttchnology.  Every  State  of  our  Union 
needs  a  complete  outfit  for  the  protection  of  her 
material  interests;  else  she  will  be  obliged  to  go  board- 
ing around  among  her  sister  states,  or  to  subsist  on  the 
remnants  of  their  surplus.  Most  of  the  material  for 
building  up  our  galleries  and  museums  must  necessarily 
be  imported  from  abroad;  from  Nations  that  have  an  Art 
history.  But  we  can  not  stop  there.  We  must  also  im- 
port their  practices  and  traditions  direct  through  living 
agents,  by  bringing  our  Art-students  home  again — by 
patronizing  them  at  home. 

When  we  contemplate  the  systematic  order  in 
which  the  written  languages  are  taught,  which  are  evi- 
dently not  conditioned  by  a  law  of  nature,  but  arbitra- 
rily established  by  an  agreement  of  human  families  (na- 
tions): first, — by  coining  words  to  represent  objects  and 
ideas,    then, — hy   fixing  signs    to    represent    words,    the 


LECTURE    OF    PROF.    DIEHL.  499 

question  forces  itself  upon  us:  why  is  it  that  the  struc- 
ture of  written  language  is  so  highly  perfected,  its 
knowledge  and  use  so  universal,  whilst  a  familiarity  with 
that  which  forces  itself  upon  our  senses,  viz:  form  and 
phenomena,  still  remains  the  property  of  a  few?  especi- 
ally when  we  consider  that  form  can  be  taught  without 
the  aid  of  any  spoken  language,  whilst  the  teaching  of 
a  written  language  without  form,  is  an'utter  impossi- 
bility. 

The  world  of  form  lies  open  before  the  deaf  and 
dumb,  and  the  blind  can  feel  it. 

The  growth  of  language  in  the  primitive  state,  must 
have  depended  on  the  progress  made  by  man,  to  adapt 
the  existing  raw  material  to  his  uses.  Ideas  can  only  be 
generated  by  a  familiarity  with  that  by  which  we  are 
surrounded,  and  words  are  formed  to  perpetuate  ideas. 
Words  are  not  ideas;— they  are  merely  the  frames,  the 
settings  of  these  j excels. 

Primitive  labor  must  have  been  drudgery,  and  it 
stands  to  reason  that  every  member  of  the  human  fam- 
ily, who,  by  dint  of  brute  force,  or  cunning,  could  ex- 
empt himself  therefrom,  did  so.  History  bears  us  out  in 
the  assertion;  that  the  lower  the  standard  of  culture 
of  a  race  or  nation,  the  greater  is  the  contempt  for  the 
laborer,  the  slave;  whilst  in  the  measure  as  civilization 
advances,  the  higher  the  laborer,  the  producer,  the  main* 
tainer  of  social  welfare,  rises  in  the  esteem  of  his  coun- 
trymen and  kind.  This  progressive  elevation  has  gone 
on,  until,  to-day  the  cultured  nerve  and  skilled  muscle  of 
the  Artisan  are  ruling  the  world.  The  world  is  now 
engaged  in  eliminating  the  intellectual  Don  Quixotes — 
in  transforming  itself  into  an  Industrial  World. 
The  van  was  led  by  the  little  Swiss  nation  in  the  manu- 
facture of  watches  and  mathematical  instruments.     The 


500  UNIVERSITY   OF   MISSOURI. 

industrial  fever  spread  to  the  summits  of  its  Alps.  Ev- 
ery senner  and  woodsman  contributes  some  specimen  of 
Swiss  industry  to  the  world's  market.  Every  village 
has  its  Sunday  school  in  the  holiest  and  most  religious 
sense.  That  man  mav  become  more  alike  unto  his 
Maker,  and  that  thereby  he  may  prove  a  more  valuable 
member  of  human  society,  his  productive  and  creative 
faculties  are  the*re  developed. 

The  England  of  today  is  an  industrial  island. 
Work  is  King!  Germany  has  more  than  doubled  its 
industrial  educational  facilities  since  the  Paris  Exposition 
in  i86y;  despite  this,  France,  whose  Art-industrial  pro- 
ducts have  controlled  the  world's  market  for  centuries, 
stood  at  the  head  of  the  list  at  the.Vienna  Exposition,  by 
the  consent  of  all  nations  that  were  there  represented. 

Few  men  realize  that  the  same  knowledge,  which 
enables  a  carpenter,  or  joiner,  to  make  a  chair,  table,  or 
case — only  in  a  higher  development — underlies  every 
product  of  the  highest  order  in  Painting,  Sculpture,  Ar- 
chitecture and  Engineering.  Very  few  mechanics  in  our 
time,  and  more  especially  in  the  United  States  (where 
the  mechanic  is  trained  in  the  performance  of  special 
parts  of  a  trade)  become  thorough  masters.  When  such 
mechanics  have  the  misfortune  to  be  thrown  out  of  em- 
ployment in  their  speciality,  they  can  seldom  turn  their 
hands  to  other  industrial  pursuits;  and  hence  it  comes 
that  in  vocations,  such  as  clerking  and  standing  behind 
counters — of  every  description, — going  on  errands,  cart- 
ing, pauper-labor,  and  other  occupations  that  require  lit- 
tle or  no  preparation — the  supply  is  ever  greater  than 
the  demand.  Doubt  it  as  you  may, — -close  your  eyes  to 
it  if  you  will;  yet,  the  great  question  before  the  Ameri- 
can educator  to-day,  is:  What  education  will  give  ver- 
satility? 


LECTURE   OF   PROF.   DIEHL.  501 

When  a  state  shall  be  prepared  to  invest  one-half  of 
the  amounts,  now  applied  to  show  and  superficial  pre- 
tensions in  cities  like  New  York,  Philadelphia  and  oth- 
ers, in  good  substantial  training  accommodations,  by  pro- 
viding for  a  staff  of  competent  professors  in  all  special 
branches  of  the  Arts  as  well  as  in  the  Sciences,  together 
with  spacious  and  well  lighted  rooms,  standard  models 
and  apparatus,  then,  and  not  till  then,  can  it  look  forward 
to  a  great  issue. 

It  is  safe  to  predict  that  that  State  University  in  the 
Union,  which  will  take  the  first  steps  towards  establish- 
ing s.uch  schools,  will  draw  towards  itself  the  most  valu- 
able raw  product  in  existence,  i.  e.,  talent  and  genius,  and 
with  it  enterprise  of  a  creative  order.  By  the  time  that 
such  schools  shall  have  achieved  results,  we  will  un- 
doubtedly be  able  to  devise  means  for  exhibiting  our 
products  to  good  advantage,  though  we  may  not  possess 
a  ginger-bready  marble-front  edifice  with  a  palatial  stair- 
hall.  Should  we  even  fail  to  accomplish  this  in  our 
own  state,  then  we  can  send  our  products  to  Eastern 
Exhibition  buildings. 

History  shows  that  those  nations  have  been  most 
prosperous,  whose  best  Artisans  were  also  its  greatest 
Artists,  and  as  such,  established  the  standard  of  perfec- 
tion in  all  technical  and  mechanical  aims  by  precept  and 
example.  In  order  that  we  may  insure  future  welfare, 
we  must  prepare  our  children — our  future  citizens — for 
this  important  work,  by  training  them  from  the  start  in 
the  proper  use  of  their  eyes  and  hands,  and  by  pre- 
paring them  for  all  the  special  studies  of  polytechnical 
schools  as  well  as  for  those  of  colleges. 

It  will  be  impossible  for  us  to  build  up  any  interest 
of  great  importance  unless,  as  a  practical  people,  we 
take  hold  of  it  in  a  practical  and  business-like  manner. 


502  UNIVERSITY  OF  MISSOURI. 

There  is  no  propriety  in  disguising  the  fact  that 
there  are  three  factions  which  are  inimical  to  the  dissem- 
ination of  true  Art-principles  and  the  building  up  of  our 
National  Art-interests  upon  a  sound  basis. 

The  first  of  these  is  composed  of  certain  publish- 
ers, their  avowed  agents,  their  abettors  and  accessaries — 
whose  Art-standard  is  the  "almighty  dollar."  A  ra- 
tional and  well-developed  system  of  Art-education  must 
give  the  death-blow  to  their  pernicious  and  expensive 
confidence -schemes. 

The  second  is  made  up  of  the  Art-Literati  and  Dil- 
letanti,  who  disport  their  ignorance  of  the  elements,  pro- 
cesses, and  practices  of  Art,  with  a  self-asserting  vanity 
that  puts  truth,competency,  and  qualification  to  the  blush. 

The  third  is  formed  by  the  rapacious,  selfish,  super- 
cillious  combinations,  which  have  misappropriated  the 
name  of  Art  school,  Academy  or  School  of  Design, 
built  up  by  private  corportions,  and  under  the  pretense 
of  philanthropy,  sway  the  public  sympathy, — insinuate 
themselves,  into  public  confidence, — and  thus,  in  a  great 
measure  control,  in  their  misdirected  interest,  the  purse- 
strings  of  the  wealth  of  communities. 

It  has  been  my  fortune,  during  the  many  years' of 
devoted  effort  to  promote  and  popularize  the  true  inter- 
ests of  Ait  in  the  schools  of  the  West — for  the  children 
of  the  poor  rather  than  of  the  rich — to  have  an  experi- 
ence of  the  selfish  and  misguided  influences  to  be  sur- 
mounted, which  may  be  a  lesson  of  value  in  the  future: 
but  it  is  no  small  gratification  and  reward,  to  know  that 
my  methods  are  adopted,  and  my  labors  are  now  prac- 
ticallv  utilized  in  one-halt  of  the  District  schools  of  the 
City  of  vSt.  Louis. 

The  hour  has  come  when  the  States  of  our  Union 
should  see  it  to    be  their   true  interest   to  take  control  of 


LECTURE   OF    PROF.    DIEHL.  503 

these  great  factors  of  National  prosperity  and  renown. 
It  is  an  unwise  policy  to  leave  this  feature  of  the  work  of 
public  education  without  suitable  provision,  and  exposed 
to  the  precarious  fortunes  of  -private  and  local  patronage 
and  caprice. 

Every  state  must — as  a  means  of  self-protection — 
establish  Art  and  Art-Industrial  schools  or  Schools  of 
Technology.  The  State  Universities  being  the  great 
nurseries  of  the  productive  industries  of  our  country, 
must  embrace  them — -must  foster  them. 

What  of  the  seven  wonders  of  the  Ancient  world? 
The  Mausoleum  of  Artemesia,  the  Temple  of  Diana  at 
Ephesus,  were  the  marvels  of  Architecture;  the  Pyra- 
mids of  Egypt,  the  Pharos  of  Alexandria,  the  walls  and 
hanging  gardens  of  Semiramis,  of  Engineering;  the 
Colossus  of  Rhodes  and  the  Statue  of  Jupiter  Olympius, 
of  Sculpture:  all  of  them  products  of  Art. 

Why  are  Athens  and  Rome  the  goal  of  the  Art 
Pilgrim?  Because  they  are  the  holiest  shrines  of  Art, 
whose  works  speak  with  a  thousand  tongues  the  glory 
of  past  civilizations.  The  Art  of  a  Nation  forms  and 
records  its  history.  The  Art  of  war  (engineering)  on 
one  hand;  the  Arts  of  Peace:  Painting,  Sculpture  and 
Architecture  on  the  other.  What  constitutes  the  great- 
ness of  France?  Is  it  the  conquest  of  territory  ? — the 
blood  spilled  on  the  field  of  battle?  No!  it  is  the  Louvre 
which  is  filled  with  the  glorious  Art-Record  of  the 
French  Nation  and  the  pillage  of  Nations,  that  were 
momentarily  subdued  by  France,  and  robbed  of  their 
holiest,  possessions:  their  Art-treasures.  But  that 
which  imbues  the  Frenchman  with  the  martial  spirit 
and  national  pride,  so  peculiar  to  him ,  is  the  record  of 
his  nation's  glory  and  triumphs  in  the  highest  form  of 
expression  of  which  Art  is  capable:  the  Paintings  at 
Versailles, 


504  (TNIVERSITY    OP   MISSOURI. 

The  Louvre  and  Versailles  are  the  fountain-heads 
of  the  national  inspiration,  and  of  what  is  known  as 
French  taste.  Every  Frenchman  at  some  period  of  his 
life,  fills  his  soul  with  rapture  and  exaltation  at  these  sa- 
cred altars  o'  the  Nation. 

What  inspiration  does  the  American  imbibe  in  his 
National  Capitol  at  Washington!  If  a  foreign  Artist 
of  the  highest  rank  should  happen  into  that  National 
Monument,  and  examine  the  paintings,  purely  as  works 
of  Art,  and  remark  that  America  can  have  no  National 
Art  and  hence  but  a  one-sided  National  Pride, — else 
szich  paintings  could  not  possibly  disfigure  the  Nation's 
Sanctuary, — his  language  would,  no  doubt,  prove  ex- 
ceedingly offensive,  yes,  even  sacrilegious,  to  the  Ameri- 
can whose  moral  associations  render  them  fit  objects  of 
admiration  and  patriotism; — especially,  as  he  knows  that 
no  Kingdom  has  ever  been  more  lavish  in  its  appropri- 
ations of  funds,  for  a  like  object,  than  has  the  American 
Nation  in  securing  them.  Yet, — -the  time  may  not  be 
distant  when  American  Artists  will  be  so  educated  in 
the  true  principles  of  Art,  that  they  may  share  these 
sentiments. 

Before  the  time  of  Archimedes,  a  kingdom  could  not 
have  purchased  a  gross  of  the  most  ordinary  screws, — 
nor  in  the  balmiest  days  of  Greece,  a  bar  of  common 
washing-soap.  The  highest  order  of  scientific  knowl- 
edge was  required  to  produce  them,  whilst  the  lowest 
order  of  intellect  can  use  them  to  good  advantage.  Art- 
works are  the  crystallized  thoughts  of  Nations.  They 
are  the  exponents  of  their  civilization  and  the  stepping- 
stones  to  future  triumphs. 

A  great  Frenchman  says:  "W"e  say  Art-Industry; 
— Art-Industry  does  not  exist, — It  is  Art  applied  to  In- 
dustry !  Art  is  one  of  the  mightiest  machines  of  Indus- 
try!" We  shall  have  no  Industry — of  a  high  order — ■ 
without  Art,  and  yet — no  Art  without  Industry. 

Let  the  State  of  Missouri  make  ample  provision, 
and  this  University  will  soon  afford  a  full  harvest. 


